Eternity
by LisaLovesCurry
Summary: Here's a series of Carlisle/Esme one-shots about their years as a couple, as parents, and as individuals. Some fluff, some angst, and lots of stories from various points of view. Hope you enjoy!
1. Comfort

Hi! This is Lisa, and here's the beginning of my new series of Carlisle/Esme one-shots. I'm posting three today, but after this, I'll probably only do one or two per week (depending on the length of each). With any luck, I'll keep it up even after school starts again, but we'll see (grad school, so…yeah, I'm interested to see what the workload's like).

Time-wise, I'm just going to kind of jump around, so though these first three are in chronological order, after this, the order's going to be a lot more erratic. This first one's sort of reminiscent of the seventh chapter of "I'm Always In Love" (SHAMELESS PLUG FOR MY OTHER FIC!), so…I just thought you should know. Hope you enjoy, and if you do, please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own "Twilight," Stephenie Meyer does.

_1926:_ Comfort

Carlisle's POV

Some old habits died harder than others. This one, for example: it had been a perfectly hellish day at the hospital, and though Carlisle would have liked nothing more than to go home, he couldn't somehow. He didn't want Edward to have to hear his thoughts, or for Esme to see his face and ask him what was wrong, because then he would tell her, and she'd be hurt by it too.

Some days, Carlisle was happy he wasn't human: there was a lot to be said for humanity in general, but occasionally he would encounter such an abhorrent example of the species that he was glad to count himself among another race of creatures. When that happened, he'd always felt the need to be by himself for a while, to let himself be unhappy for a time before going home and preparing for another day. Solitude hadn't been hard to come by for the first two and a half centuries of his existence, but since Edward and Esme had come into his life, he was rarely alone. Carlisle was devoutly grateful for this fact, except on rare occasions like this one when all he felt fit for was the silence of his own society.

He was sitting in the forest a few miles from their new house, his back against a tree: his shift had ended hours ago, and behind the clouds, the sun was coming up, but still he didn't move. Life could be so unfair, and humans were far frailer than they realized; why was it that some felt the need to harm one another?

"Bad day?" a quiet voice beside him said.

Carlisle started and turned to look at her; he'd been so lost in thought that he hadn't even heard her coming. She seemed to realize as much, because as she sat down next to him in the dead leaves beneath the tree, she touched his face gently to pull him back to reality. He blinked and smiled weakly at her.

"The worst I've had in a while," he said. "I'm sorry, I would have come home, but Edward—"

"Of course you worry about him," she said, her voice still gentle but firmer now. "But what about you? Can I—" She hesitated. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she whispered. "I know you're used to being alone when you feel like this, but—_I_ worry about _you_ too, trying to handle things by yourself. I'd like to do something, if I can."

Carlisle thought about this. He was still learning, he realized, what it meant to be married, or perhaps more specifically, what it meant to be able to rely on someone. Carlisle felt, with a growing sense of relief, that he really could tell Esme anything: that when something hurt him, she didn't want him to bear it alone. Neither did he. They could face whatever it was together, each protecting the other from having to endure pain without help.

"Come here," he said quietly.

She smiled and moved closer to him. When their shoulders were touching, he moved his arm and wrapped it around her. Then he leaned his head down and rested it on top of hers, inhaling the scent of her hair as he slid his other arm around her. Without a word, she moved until she was perched in his lap, and then she began to rub his shoulders. Though they both knew the muscles of immortals knew no fatigue, he sighed after a few minutes, as if her touch had relaxed tension that didn't really exist on a physical level.

"Better?" she whispered.

"Yes," he said, wishing he didn't sound surprised. He was used to being close to Esme under romantic circumstances, but it was different, embracing only to comfort one another; they'd barely done that since she'd been a newborn, when platonic contact was the only thing they'd allowed themselves. And those times, he'd usually been the one to approach her, to embrace her or touch her hand to try and ease the suffering she'd felt in the early months of her new life.

"What is it?" she whispered, noticing his expression.

Carlisle shook his head. "It's just…I'd gotten so used to being the one to comfort you, or Edward, when you were having difficulties. It's…I'm not used to being comforted myself." He paused, uncertain how to express how he felt at this moment properly. "…Thank you, Esme."

For an instant, he could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes. But then she smiled, and kissed his forehead, each eyelid, each cheek, and then his lips.

"I love you," she whispered simply.

He smiled up at her, marveling that he'd found her again, that she was his forever.

"I love you too," he said, scooping her up in his arms and getting to his feet. "Now, shall we go home?"


	2. Prodigal

Number two…this one's a bit sad (Edward has ample reason to be angsty, after all) but it ends happily.

_1931: _Prodigal

Edward's POV

He watched them for two days before he worked up the nerve to walk in the front door. They were living in a small house in upstate New York, and he was able to get close enough to hear their thoughts but not so close that they would pick up his scent. At first, he tried not to listen too closely, but Edward couldn't help but overhear things: Esme was enjoying her college classes, Carlisle liked his new colleagues at the hospital a few miles down the road, and both of them missed him terribly.

It was worse when they were apart, he could hear that much. When they were together, they could usually keep themselves occupied; they would read, go driving, do other things…Edward was careful to tune them out when the thoughts of either trended in that direction. But in spite of all the happiness they enjoyed with each other, he could hear them thinking of him, wishing he'd come back, wondering when he would. And he was ready to now. But it was proving so much harder than he'd expected to show himself, to find out how they'd react when they saw him again for the first time, his eyes that telltale shade of crimson.

He felt so weary; not physically but mentally, spiritually. The past few years had been the strangest of his life, in large part because he'd begun his life of solitude so confidently, only to end it feeling…defeated. At first he'd been angry with Carlisle, furious really, because he'd been right about everything—he'd predicted the guilt that Edward had come to feel every day without ever having known it himself. Carlisle's very way of life had triumphed in the face of the stubborn hubris that had led Edward to play God, to choose the humans that "deserved" to die.

And yet for the first few years, he'd reveled in the fact that for the first time in his existence, his diet was such that the terrible thirst for blood that plagued all immortals could be slaked absolutely…for a time. He'd feed, and he'd travel, and every few weeks he'd repeat this pattern, all the while thinking that he was doing something laudable, ridding the world of humans who destroyed the lives of others, who contributed nothing but more pain and misery to society.

But as time passed, he'd begun to wonder at the number of human lives he'd ended. In the beginning, Edward was simply surprised—it seemed remarkable that there could really be so many human monsters in the world. But gradually, he began to feel uneasy. At first he thought of his victims' families (and it was some time before he even came to think of them as victims). After all, a murderer might still be someone's father, husband, son. Monstrous though the actions of such a man might be (and Edward found that very few women met his qualifications for prey), did that man's family deserve to suffer the uncertainty that would follow his disappearance? In killing without considering the families of these humans, wasn't he becoming like them in a way? His motivation to do good aside, wasn't the act of killing itself amoral, evil even? Whether it could be justified or not, wasn't the decision to end a human life too big for any individual to make?

By himself, he had more leisure than ever to consider the implications of his actions. And the longer he wandered, the more he began to wonder if Carlisle had been right, if it wasn't better to resist and suffer the burning thirst that abstinence would doom you to rather than feeling this way. At first, he only felt strangely numb, surprised to find himself even considering the possibility of a guilty conscience. But guilt itself soon followed, and Edward began to curse the flawless memory of an immortal. Every time he killed, he began to see past victims, their faces as he watched them die, and he knew he would never forget. He couldn't.

Carlisle…had been right, of course, but he had never tried to force his beliefs on anyone, Edward could grudgingly admit that. Esme stayed with him because she loved him, and Edward…he did too. He respected his father, not so much for his self restraint as the fact that the very thought of killing a human was repellant to him.

Edward realized, finally, that he hadn't been angered by Carlisle himself, not really: he'd simply felt inadequate when he compared his own personality to that of his adopted father, and ashamed of his own inability to be as naturally compassionate. Esme too was kind without having to work at it, and yet neither of them had ever thought ill of him for this. In fact, they'd sympathized with him for the unwilling insights he had into the thoughts of everyone around him; in a way, that was harder really. If they'd gotten angry, Edward thought later, he could have felt justified in his actions, he could have rationalized the decision to leave almost effortlessly. But they hadn't gotten angry, so he'd clung to the notion that he was being smothered by their kindness, their naiveté, and that since he could tell bad humans from good humans, there was nothing he could do but begin hunting the bad. It would be unforgivable to ignore what was clearly evil, even if that meant doing something evil himself. Wouldn't it?

They'd known he'd been suffering, and before he'd left, they'd done the best they could to help him, but in the end, there was nothing for it. Edward had left because he could no longer endure hearing the thoughts of humans he believed deserved to die while living with Carlisle and Esme. With them, he would try to endure, he would try to be the good person they believed he was, and he wouldn't do what they both abhorred: he wouldn't feed on humans. But he'd known that if he were alone, he could.

He hadn't looked in a mirror for weeks, because he'd known what he'd see: his eyes, that awful scarlet again. _The color of blood, the color of guilt_, he mused as he stood a few hundred yards from the house. There was room for him—he knew that already. It was a three bedroom house, and if either Carlisle or Esme was out of the house for any reason, the other would often stand in the room they considered his, looking at his books, his piano…he wondered why it was so much harder to return that it had been to leave. They wanted him back, he wanted to go back, but still he hesitated.

The problem was a simple one, really. Going back would mean making a claim on their affections that he feared he no longer deserved. When he heard their thoughts, he knew they were thinking of him as he'd been when he'd left: confused, angry, but not a murderer. And now, no matter how much he might despise the truth of what he was, they would know it before he even spoke. When they saw him, what would they feel? They loved the old Edward, the innocent Edward, but could they forgive the new one, the guilty one, in spite of all the blood that was on his hands, that stained his eyes?

When he finally moved to approach the house, he ran—he couldn't bear to move at an inconspicuous pace, to approach cautiously and give them a chance to notice him. He would do this quickly, or he wouldn't be able to do it at all. He was out of the woods and standing at the door in seconds, and he heard them both react when they caught his scent, heard his furtive knock. Both of them stopped speaking, and in an instant, the door was thrown open, they were looking at him, and—

"Edward," Carlisle said, his voice weak with relief. There was no remonstration, no disappointment in his thoughts. Esme didn't speak, she simply threw her arms around him, and all he could hear was how much she loved him, how glad she was that he was home, and for a long time, Edward could think of nothing to say either. They were all of them speechless with relief, and though Edward could never think of that day or those that preceded it without a twinge of guilt, as years passed, he realized that the moment when they saw him again, when they welcomed him back to the home they never blamed him for leaving, was one of the best of his life. His parents truly loved him, and in their eyes, there was nothing to forgive, no sin to equal the joy of having him back again.


	3. Lunch: 1941

Here's another rather fluffy one…

Disclaimer: I don't own "Twilight," Stephenie Meyer does, but my "Twilight" dolls are rather adorable, if I do say so myself, so that is some consolation. 

_1941:_ Lunch (One)

Esme's POV

Driving was by no means Esme's favorite activity. She liked the speed, but every time she drove anywhere, it was impossible not to remember an embarrassing episode from her newborn years. It was a few months after she and Carlisle had been married, and Carlisle had been teaching her to drive. At the time, she had thought, and so had Carlisle, that she had her monstrous strength mostly under control. But then a deer had dashed in front of the car, and Esme, reflexively concerned for a creature she now killed with her bare hands and drained of blood on a regular basis, had slammed on the brakes. The car had stopped, certainly, but that was probably to be expected, since she'd shoved her foot through the floor of the car and several inches into the gravel of the road below.

It was, Esme always thought, to Carlisle's credit that he had not laughed at that moment. She had no doubt that he had very much wanted to, but somehow he'd restrained himself and comforted Esme in her embarrassment with almost a straight face. Later, she'd been able to laugh about it herself, but at the time, she'd been horrified; after nearly two years as a vampire, she'd hoped that her outrageous power would have waned slightly, or that at least her control would have improved. It had, according to Carlisle, but at the time, all Esme had been able to think was that she wasn't going shopping for a while, for fear of ripping a book or article of clothing in half accidentally, to say nothing of doing so to a human being.

Now, that was years ago, and Esme felt safe around people, though of course there were still twinges of discomfort to be dealt with; maybe by the time she was Carlisle's age, she would be as indifferent to her thirst as he was to his, but until then, Esme was ready to watch and learn from her calm, capable husband. It made her smile to think that she was the only one who he wasn't always calm and controlled with. As it happened, it was with that thought in mind that she was visiting Carlisle at the hospital today.

When she parked in front of the building and walked briskly to the lobby, people stared. This was to be expected, but somehow it never ceased to surprise Esme that vampiric beauty could be so magnetic. It was, she often thought, a bit like the attraction some humans felt for weapons, particularly those of the antique variety. When she'd been human, such a fascination had always seemed very strange—a weapon that was beautiful wasn't necessarily any less deadly. Of course, Esme acknowledged, human reactions to her appearance weren't colored by any conscious knowledge of how dangerous she could be. If people felt any discomfort in her presence, then the source of such was purely instinctive. Or, in the case of human males, nervousness was often explained away by calling it 'shyness,' an explanation Esme couldn't wholly dismiss. She remembered how she'd felt in Carlisle's presence when she'd been human: during that meeting, she'd found it impossible not to stammer a bit in the presence of such a handsome man. Little had she known that it had been more than just his appearance that had attracted her.

Enduring people staring was an irritating but necessary part of appearing in public; of course, it was well worth it at times, like today, when trying to appear human meant visiting Carlisle at lunch. Human wives did this, after all—Esme had seen a woman taking lunch to her husband, another doctor, a few months after she and Carlisle had been married, so as soon as she'd been safely out of her newborn years, she'd begun visiting Carlisle a couple times a week. Sometimes, when she drove into town to see him at noon, they really did drive to a wooded area a few miles away and hunt for an hour or so. But there was no real need to eat every day, so some days they went shopping, or visited the library. And some days, they just enjoyed each other's company—that was Esme's plan for today.

Esme was still cautious when she visited the hospital; she couldn't smell blood when she allowed herself a quick breath at the entrance, but after that, she didn't breathe again until she was standing outside of Carlisle's office. The air smelled clean, mostly; the closest human blood was a floor above, and Esme's throat burned at the very thought of it. Taking no chances, she slipped inside silently and shut the door. Carlisle was at his desk, bent over a large manila file. He was running a hand through his hair distractedly when he caught her scent and looked up, smiling.

"This is a nice surprise," he murmured, watching with raised eyebrows as Esme removed her gloves and put them in her pocket.

She shrugged. "I thought you might like to go out for lunch today, but if you're too busy…"

Carlisle was out of his chair and next to her in a flash. When he leaned down to kiss her, she smoothed his hair back into place, only to muss it up even more completely than he had himself when the kiss deepened.

"We could stay here too," she whispered, breaking away just long enough to check that there was indeed a lock on the office door. Without a word, Carlisle stepped around her and fastened it. Esme took off her coat and tossed on the floor, and then she turned back to her husband, who was watching her happily—his eyes were practically glowing with love, amusement, and more than a little lust. She grinned at him and took advantage of all three feelings by grabbing his tie and undoing it while she pushed him back against his desk. He chuckled, the sound almost a growl as she made him sit down, and as she perched in his lap, they began to kiss again, this time more hungrily.

Esme smiled and kissed the top of his head as his mouth traced the scar on her neck, the one he'd left there years ago, and then what had started as a laugh turned into a groan when she felt him push her skirt up past her knees, and—

Someone knocked on the door. Esme froze, but Carlisle dropped his head against her collar bone and swore very quietly.

"Yes?" he called, his tone of voice perfectly normal.

"Dr. Cullen, you have a phone call," a nurse called. "Should I take a message?"

"Please do," Carlisle said. Esme bit back a giggle as he began to unzip her skirt. "I'm on my lunch."


	4. Lunch: 2006

Here's the fourth and final one shot for today—yeah, I'm posting one more, and it's probably my favorite so far. This takes place during "Breaking Dawn"—it never happened, but it would have been adorable if it had! (By the way, do I have the year right? I think I do, but I thought I'd better check). If you get the chance, please review. Thanks and see you next week!

Disclaimer: Don't own "Twilight," Stephenie Meyer does. Hey though, maybe in an alternate dimension I _do_ own it. In a universe possessing infinite possible dimensions, every conceivable reality can happen…

_2006_: Lunch (Two)

Bella's POV

My stomach hurt—dreading something both unpleasant and inevitable can do that to a person. It was, I thought, just like Renee to insist on something like this: the wedding was in two days, but she and Phil had come to Forks early so they could meet my soon-to-be in-laws face to face. She and Esme had been friends for months, but that was through planning my wedding over the phone: she'd never met my future mother-in-law in person, and she only knew Carlisle from meeting him during my unpleasant trip to Phoenix the year before. Interestingly, Edward hadn't been invited on our little lunch outing, but Alice insisted repeatedly that everything was fine.

"Bella, your mother just wants to see that you're comfortable with Carlisle and Esme," she said, rolling her eyes a little. "Esme especially, what with her being the mother-in-law."

"Never mind that Esme's one of the least scary people I know," I muttered. "Alice, be honest. Is Renee having second thoughts? Is she going to try to tell me that getting married is a bad idea like I thought she would in the first place?"

"First of all Bella, _you_ are the bride, so it doesn't really matter if anyone else is having second thoughts," Alice said patiently. "And secondly, she doesn't think getting married at eighteen is a bad idea for _you_, remember? Just relax and practice pretending to eat human food."

I made a face. She was right, I definitely wasn't going to do much actual eating, but still.

Edward was encouraging too—like Alice, he seemed to see nothing amiss in the fact that Renee had asked for only Carlisle and Esme to accompany me, or if he did, he was being careful not to show it.

"Bella," he said, looking bemused, "I think it's fairly traditional for people to want to get to know their future relatives. Renee and Phil have both met me, but they hardly know Carlisle and Esme at all. Do you really think there's anything very strange about this?"

"No," I admitted, slightly irritated. "It's just…Renee sometimes seems to do things out of order. She was happy when I told her we were getting married, she and Esme have been planning for months, and _now_ she's suddenly eager to meet your parents? She'll see them in two days anyway."

"You think she's worried," Edward said, stating it as a fact rather than a question.

I sighed—sometimes that was the only response I could summon to deal with the unpredictable schemes of Renee. "Not really. I just spent so much time expecting her to worry about me getting married young that…I don't know, the fact that she's been so accepting kind of caught me off guard. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Well, she'd better hurry if she really wants to lodge a formal complaint," Edward said, making my head spin as he leaned down to kiss my forehead. "There's only two days left."

Carlisle and Esme were nothing if not sympathetic. Neither of them tried to comfort me during the short ride to the restaurant where we were meeting Renee and Phil, so as Carlisle's black Mercedes raced easily over the damp pavement, I was able to concentrate on taking deep breaths and trying not to make myself hysterical about this. In two days, Edward and I would be married. Period. Today wasn't going to change anything, but still, it was impossible not to feel nervous—of course, I could imagine an even more horrifying scenario, in which Charlie had been invited too.

The restaurant was on the edge of town, a place where Charlie liked to go sometimes with people from work. Carlisle parked the car before meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Ready, Bella?"

"Nope," I said, taking a deep breath and getting out of the car. Esme gently squeezed my hand as we headed for the door, and I made a half-hearted attempt to smile.

It was after the lunch rush, so the place wasn't crowded. I spotted Renee immediately, waving to me from a table near the back. Then she spotted Carlisle and Esme, and her mouth fell open. So did Phil's.

Suddenly, instead of feeling vaguely sick, I was struggling not to laugh. It wasn't as if I'd forgotten how ridiculously perfect they both looked, but spending so much time around vampires in general had sort of desensitized me to the reality of their outrageously good looks. Seeing other humans look at the Cullens could be a very interesting experience, because where I saw my family, other people saw what my Mom and Phil seemed to be seeing now: inhuman beauty of a degree that didn't even make you feel bad about how you looked. You just stared, awed. I couldn't help but recall the way I'd kept gaping at the Cullens on my first day of school.

Fortunately, Carlisle and Esme were both very practiced at ignoring the stares of dazzled humans. They greeted Renee and Phil cheerfully and sat down without shaking hands, at which I breathed a mental sigh of relief. I'd have expected Renee to go in for a hug as soon as she saw Esme for the first time, but touching vampires when you don't know what to expect isn't conducive to putting people at ease.

"It's so nice to finally meet you in person," Esme said as soon as Renee had stammered out a hello. "Bella's told us so much."

That comment finally seemed to bring Renee back to her senses. "Now I'm worried," she said smiling between me and my future in-laws. Her expression was delighted but also still a little surprised, or maybe 'dazed' was the better word. "I hope you haven't been scaring people, Bella."

"Only a little," I said, smiling. _Right Mom, I used you to scare my in-laws the vampires. _

"Everything's ready, by the way," Esme said happily. "Alice is already decorating, and the caterers are going to start setting up at eight a.m. on the day of the ceremony."

Renee's eyes lit up, and soon they were completely consumed in discussing every detail of my wedding—Esme had already been through this with Alice on a number of occasions, and I knew she'd talked to Renee almost daily since Edward and I had announced a date, but I got the feeling that she was trying to stall Renee from questioning me for as long as possible, a maneuver that I was inexpressibly grateful for. Since I had no interest in tablecloths or the seating arrangement though, I found myself listening more and more to Carlisle's conversation with Phil.

He and Phil had virtually nothing in common, but watching Carlisle speak now clearly showed the benefit of three centuries of practice at blending into human society. In moments, he had Phil talking about coaching in Florida, how he'd broken his leg recently and what his doctor had said about the injury—Phil seemed eager to talk to another doctor about that, and by the time our food arrived, Carlisle was reassuring him that in a few more months, he should be running at the same speed he had before the break.

To my amazement, I actually had what passed for an appetite, so I quickly devoured my salad and sandwich, all the time sneaking looks at Carlisle and Esme. My feeble human eyesight had never managed to catch any of the Cullens sneaking the food they used as props off their plates, and today was no exception: by the time I'd finished eating, their plates were empty too, though I knew that neither of them had swallowed a bite.

"So," Renee said, and I immediately sensed that she was about to bring up something she'd been itching to say. "Are you and Edward getting a little nervous, Bella?"

"No," I said, keeping my smile in place despite the fact that to everyone at the table, it was obvious that I was lying. "We're both fine. We're…excited."

Renee nodded, smiling sympathetically—she knew I wasn't looking forward to this, and under the table, she squeezed my hand—for an instant, I felt like she was more grateful than was absolutely necessary, almost as if she could feel that this was maybe the last human rite of passage she would see me go through…

"The rest of our family is really looking forward to meeting the two of you," Carlisle said easily, and now Renee was distracted again, eager to hear what the other Cullen children had been up to since graduation. Carlisle and Esme took turns answering, and when Renee wasn't looking, I mouthed the words 'thank you' emphatically. Both of them smiled, and Esme winked at me when Renee and Phil focused on Carlisle's description of Emmett and Rosalie's time in Africa.

Sighing quietly, I leaned back in my seat and fought the urge to close my eyes. For a moment, I felt very at ease: there was so much I had to hide from my human parents, so many secrets to keep. Carlisle and Esme were something different entirely, and though it made me sad to think about it, it was also a comfort to know that long after Charlie and Renee were gone, the people across from me now would still be there for me. The fact that they wanted me to be a part of their family too was still a bit staggering at times. Marriage for ordinary humans was certainly binding, depending on how seriously you took the vows 'till death do us part,' but this wasn't like that. As a Cullen, death would be just the beginning.

Before dessert came, Mom excused herself to use the bathroom and pulled me along after her—neither of us needed to use it, but Renee was apparently desperate for a private moment to comment on the Cullens.

"Models," she whispered as soon as she'd shut the door behind us. "Honestly, Carlisle and Esme both look like they fell out of a magazine! Are you sure Edward isn't related to them somehow, honey? I mean, they're all so gorgeous…"

"Nope, that's just a coincidence," I said, cheerfully repeating the lie I'd once been told myself. "Actually, Jasper and Rosalie are related to Esme though."

Renee smiled shyly at me. "We're both a little young for me to be saying this, I guess, but I'm already sort of looking forward to some really adorable grandchildren."

Somehow, I managed to keep my smile in place, and like clockwork, I felt my face flush at exactly the right moment. Renee laughed and went back to praising Carlisle and Esme, but I was barely listening now. How was I going to tell her that there wouldn't be any grandchildren—that in a few months time, I would very probably be, for all intents and purposes, dead? That thought made the fact that Mom's new friends were immortal seem rather insignificant by comparison.

We left the restaurant after agreeing that Edward and I would have dinner with both our parents the next night, and then the next day would be the wedding, the thought of which predictably made me feel like hyperventilating. As soon as I'd shut the door of Carlisle's Mercedes, I took a deep breath and felt myself relax against the seat.

"Not as bad as you'd expected, Bella?" Carlisle said, smiling at me as he started the car.

I thought for a moment. "That was actually…tolerable."

He and Esme both laughed.

"Bella honey, your mother and Phil are both _wonderful_. And Renee's so excited about this. I really don't think you have to worry about her disapproval any longer," Esme told me.

"When Edward and I are married, then I'll believe that she's completely on board with this," I said grimly. This wasn't true exactly: my mother was just a convenient person who I could attach my own insecurities to. Esme probably sensed this, because she let the topic of Renee drop and asked some safe questions about where my human friends were going to college, though she probably knew already.

As I spoke, I watched her lean a little closer to Carlisle, sliding across the seat until their shoulders were touching. He put his arm around her then, and for a few moments, I was able to forget my anxiety about…everything: the wedding, Jacob, the change to come that would really make me a Cullen. Instead, I pictured Edward and me sitting like that, after having been married for almost a century. I smiled at the thought. That was a future that I was sure was worth going through anything for.


	5. Forgiveness

Hi there! Sorry, only one story this week—I've got a couple others that are close to done, but that I need to edit, so they might go up later this week. Generally though, I'm only going to update every Sunday. This one's a bit sad; Rosalie considers how she feels about Carlisle's having changed her, and Esme tells her about something that happened when she herself had some momentary regrets about becoming immortal.

_1944_: Forgiveness

Rosalie's POV

They followed the herd of elk for close to an hour before they actually came upon the animals themselves. Rosalie liked to watch Esme hunt; it was, she acknowledged, a strange sort of mother-daughter activity, but even after years of knowing her, Rosalie was still impressed by Esme's grace. She was quick and efficient when she hunted, and Rosalie herself was more careful to keep blood off her clothes when they went out together; needless to say, going hunting with Emmett usually meant coming back with no clothes at all, a fact that the rest of the family didn't appreciate. _Family_, she thought suddenly. She'd just finished draining a large male elk, and now that her thirst was momentarily quenched, it was easier to think. _When did I start thinking of them as family?_

When she'd first awoken to this new life and learned what she was, Rosalie had been mute with fury at first. But speech had quickly returned, and when that happened, she hadn't hesitated to tell Carlisle exactly what she thought of him. Then she'd left, she'd taken her revenge…and she'd come back, because where else was there to go? And then she'd found Emmett, and since then, her life as an immortal had been mostly happy; thoughts of the life she might have had, of how she would give up anything, even Emmett, to be human again, were the only complaints she really had. It was thanks to Emmett that life with the Cullens had become not only bearable, but pleasant even. But it had happened so gradually that she'd barely even noticed.

Watching Esme dispatch her own elk, Rosalie had to acknowledge, if only to herself, that Emmett wasn't the only reason she was able to happy with the Cullens. Though she and Edward had never had an especially warm relationship, Carlisle and Esme had both welcomed her to their family without hesitation or regret. Her hatred, her pain, her sorrow at the loss of humanity: they'd accepted her completely, and at first, their tolerance had only fueled her fury. She avoided Carlisle in particular, speaking to him as seldom as possible; Esme had been the one to bring her clothes, offer her advice, and keep her company in those first few weeks after her revenge was complete and she was at a loss for what to do with herself. Then they'd moved, and she moved with them, preferring the Cullens to solitude.

The day she'd found Emmett, Rosalie saw now, was the day that she'd finally begun to forgive Carlisle; she'd had to, in a way, because how else could she ask him to doom someone else to this life? He'd changed Emmett, asking few questions and acting without hesitation when he saw that she sincerely wanted him to join their family, and ever since Emmett had opened his eyes, Rosalie had tolerated Carlisle. She wasn't grateful to him exactly—after all, it was his fault she'd been cursed with immortality, so she felt he owed her Emmett. When she had him, her husband, her love, her reason for sanity for the rest of an undesired eternity, she'd begun to grow close to the others too. Edward was still irritating as a rule, but Esme at least was a dear friend, a confidant, and yes, even her adopted mother. But Carlisle…Carlisle was still difficult to speak to. Her hatred for him had all but evaporated in the past few years, but really, that was just the problem. Hating him had been easy, satisfying. But since he'd changed Emmett, Rosalie's opinion of him had changed, and it bothered her to no end that she was unable to articulate that fact.

Of course, she couldn't very well tell him how much her sentiments toward him had changed. To admit that she was beginning to be able to endure him, to say nothing of liking him, would be mortifying. After all, she'd spent the first few months of her life hating him quite vocally. To tell him now that that had changed…she didn't know how to begin, and that infuriated her.

She remembered the night he'd changed Emmett. It was then that loathing had been transformed into a sort of grudging respect. After all, there were few immortals who could do what he'd done—she knew that from having to endure her own blood lust while carrying Emmett home. From then on, she'd spoken to him occasionally, though only in rare moments away from Emmett or Esme; after she and Emmett had married, Edward had avoided the lascivious thoughts of both like the plague. Now, she'd been an immortal for years, and eternity had ceased to be the hateful prospect it had once been. But that didn't mean she'd forgiven Carlisle for what he'd done. Did it?

"Rose?" Esme called. "Are you finished?"

"Yes," Rosalie said, frowning at the turn her thoughts had taken. In truth, she felt slightly guilty for her behavior, and the novelty of this alone was uncomfortable. She wasn't going to apologize—Carlisle was the one who'd owed _her_ an apology, and he had apologized, several times, though he'd always been aware that it would never be enough. And it wouldn't be, no words could ever undo what he'd done. So why should she feel sorry for the years she'd spent hating him? What was there to apologize for on her side?

"Esme," Rosalie said abruptly, suddenly eager to get this over with. "Does Carlisle know…does he realize I don't hate him anymore?."

Esme stared at her—she looked surprised, but not unpleasantly so. "I think he knows, yes," she said slowly.

"Good," Rosalie said, startled at the relief she felt. "Because I don't—at least, not exactly. I can't forgive him, but I thought he should know how I feel now, if he didn't already."

Esme looked thoughtful. "Rosalie, Carlisle understands that how you used to feel about him was perfectly justified. But he also doesn't regret changing you."

"Why?" Rosalie practically snarled. "He knows _I_ regret it, so why shouldn't he?"

"That's just the way he is," Esme said simply. "When he found you, you were dying. He knew he could save you, so he did."

"Without thinking about the consequences, without considering how much I might suffer from his supposed generosity!" Rosalie hissed, suddenly livid.

"No, I'm sure he did think about that," Esme said quietly. "He has every time, with all of us. When Edward woke up, he was furious too, and he expected that I might try to rip him to shreds just as soon as look at him. As soon as he changed each of, he accepted that he deserved our hatred, and I've never heard him say a word in protest when you or Edward got angry. Or when I got angry."

That statement effectively deflated the growing feeling of rage Rosalie had been nourishing for the past few moments. "When you got angry? When have you ever been angry with him?"

Esme grimaced. "Once, about two years after Edward left us…well, I was having a bad day. All I could think about was my son, and I was wishing…well, I was wishing for impossible things. I needed to hunt—I was thirsty and I wasn't myself exactly, but I didn't want to go alone, so I waited for Carlisle to come home. That was…a mistake. As soon as I saw him, all I could think was that he was the reason that my son was in heaven without me, that I was going to be twenty-six forever and I could never have any children, _his_ children, which was something I'd always wanted, and…I sort of…snapped. I screamed at him, told him to leave me alone, and for about two minutes, I completely forgot that I loved him, that I'd loved him for almost as long as I could remember, and I just ran off. I took off into the woods and didn't come back for hours."

Rosalie stared at her, fascinated. "But you just said you were only angry for a few minutes."

"When I stopped feeling angry, I started feeling guilty, and I couldn't think of anything to say," Esme said, smiling wanly. "I felt…awful, so awful that I couldn't think of a single thing to say to him. And my first…well, Carlisle's nothing like my first husband was, but I have to admit that I was a little scared to go back. I'd never yelled at Carlisle, _ever_, and I didn't know how he'd react. I thought he might be angry, and by the time I got back, I thought he might even deserve to be a little angry. I know you don't feel the same Rose, but my human life was utterly over when Carlisle found me, and I was never angry with him for changing me for more than a few moments at a time. After screaming at him like that…well, I thought he might think I was ungrateful, or that he might think that after a few years of this life, I was starting to hate my immortality, or that I was contemplating leaving him, like Edward had. Essentially, it took me hours to go home because I didn't know what I'd find there."

"So what happened?" Rosalie asked, curious almost in spite of herself.

In that moment, Esme looked as sad as Rosalie had ever seen her. "When I got back," she said, "he was standing exactly where I'd left him. It was raining, and he hadn't moved an inch, so he was soaked. When he saw me, he didn't say anything, he just went into the house. I followed him to our room, and found him sitting on the bed, and for the longest time, hours it seemed like, I couldn't get him to say anything but 'I'm sorry' over and over. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.' Rose, he thought that he _deserved_ my hatred, maybe a part of him had thought so all along, and it took me a long time to convince him otherwise." Esme smiled weakly again. "He _accepts_ that we might hate him, but please don't think it doesn't hurt him to live with that belief, Rosalie."

Rosalie opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. She really couldn't think of anything to say.

"Esme, when did you forgive him?" Rosalie said at last, speaking quietly even though they were miles from the house.

Esme smiled. "Rose, I never really felt that there was anything to forgive."

"But your son—" Rosalie began.

"Is gone," Esme said gently. "And I believe he's in a better place, or at least somewhere that's free from pain. I miss him every day, but I don't blame Carlisle for wanting to save me—I'm _glad_ he saved me. As much as I might wish to be human again, I know I'm never going to be. _When_ did I forgive him for that? As soon as the change was over and I saw his face again, after ten years of dreaming about him. I love him, Rosalie. I know it hasn't been easy for you to accept the decision Carlisle made for you, but can you understand how I could love him in spite of what he's made me, even _because_ he changed me, wanted me enough to spend eternity with me? What if Emmett had been the one to change you?"

Again, Rosalie couldn't think of a response. The Cullens had become her family so gradually that she'd barely recognized it at first. Had the same thing happened with her and Carlisle? Had she realized what he felt, that he could feel guilt at what he'd done without regretting it, and then forgiven him without even realizing it?

"Come on," Esme said gently. "Let's go home."


	6. Anticipation

Hi and happy Friday! I got so many wonderful reviews (by the way, THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed!) that I thought I'd update early. (Plus, I'm hanging out with friends the night before a wedding at a house with wireless. Yay wireless!) So here are two short ones—look for a longer chapter on Sunday! See you later!

Disclaimer: I don't own "Twilight," Stephenie Meyer does, and only 105 days until _New_ _Moon_!!!

_2005:_ Anticipation

Charlie's POV

_Why can't they just outlaw these damn things already?_ Charlie wondered grimly. It was a dark, rainy night in Forks, a night like so many others, but tonight, he was at the scene of a motorcycle accident, and he was watching Dr. Cullen examine the body of the victim—or rather, what was left of the victim's body.

The rider had been a senior in high school, a kid that Charlie had had to speak to in his capacity as Chief Swan on a number of occasions about speeding. He'd nearly lost his license, but then he'd gotten his motorcycle. For a while, the kid had seemed to calm down—he'd been too busy trying to fix up the hunk of junk to have much time for reckless driving—but then he'd gone riding tonight, a cool, wet evening when the roads had been slick and the rain had threatened to turn to sleet. He'd taken one curve too quickly, and now…

"Your kids don't have any interest in these things, do they?" Charlie muttered, nodding at the remains of the motorcycle.

Dr. Cullen smiled grimly."If they did, they'd be hearing about tonight," he said.

Charlie nodded. "Sorry to wake you, Doc. There isn't really… I mean, can you even pinpoint the time of death with him…like this?"

"The coroner can," Dr. Cullen said, standing up and closing his bag. "If he has any questions, I can give him my opinion of the crash, but I think he'll reach the same conclusion."

"No helmet," Charlie said gruffly. "That was it, right?"

"Massive head trauma killed him, yes," Dr. Cullen said quietly. "He probably died instantly."

Charlie glanced at the unlucky people who'd discovered the wreck—it was a couple, kids about the same age as the victim, and they were badly shaken up by what they'd seen tonight. One of them, the boy, had blood on his shirt from trying to resuscitate the victim.

"I just called his parents," Charlie muttered, his voice sounding bleak even to his own ears. That was the part of this job he really hated—a few feet away, paramedics were loading the kid's remains into an ambulance, and now he needed to go to the hospital and meet the inconsolable parents, to explain again what he'd already told them because their grief made it seem so unfathomable. Normally, they might have gotten a chance to visit the scene of the accident before the body was even moved, but it was almost dawn, and this road was going to be crowded with cars in another hour or so, commuters heading to Port Angeles or some driving as far as Seattle.

""Say hi to Esme for me," Charlie called as Carlisle returned to his car, trying to inject a bit of normalcy into the meeting.

Dr. Cullen paused and smiled. "I will. By the way, isn't your daughter coming next week?"

Charlie smiled. "Yeah. She's a junior—aren't a couple of your kids in the junior class?"

"Yes, Edward and Alice," Carlisle said. "I'm sure they'll be happy to meet Isabella."

Charlie's smile faded. He was worried about that: Bella had never really liked Forks—even visits had been a bit much—and starting at a new school with less than two years of high school left? Would she fit in, would she have friends?

"Talk to you later, Doc," Charlie said, waving as Carlisle got into his car and drove away. Then he frowned. Even at a time like this, standing where he was and still shaken by what he'd seen, an odd thought had occurred to him.

For a split second, he'd wished that he could give Bella the kind of family that Carlisle and Esme had made for their kids. He knew that the Cullens were probably unique; he'd never known such a big family of kids to get along so well, and though he'd only met Mrs. Cullen once or twice, Charlie felt like a kid couldn't really ask for better parents than Carlisle and Esme Cullen. When Bella came to Forks, Charlie had a truck waiting for her, and the house she'd visited for most of her childhood, and him…and that was it. No family.

Charlie shook his head. She was coming to live in Forks—that was all that mattered. _In six days, she'll be here,_ he thought. Then he glanced at the totaled motorcycle. _And she'll be safe, _he promised himself.


	7. Scars

This one is _very_ short, but I thought it was a cute idea…(This is set during Carlisle and Esme's honeymoon ).

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. Not me. So…dang.

_1922_: Scars

Esme's POV

Esme curled up on top of him, resting her head against his chest. They'd been married for just a few hours, and already she counted these among the best hours of her life. She sighed deeply, and then she heard an odd rumbling coming from her throat. She knew it was a sound of satisfaction, but it was hard to describe. It was almost like…

"Are you _purring_?" Carlisle asked, his voice both amazed and delighted.

Esme turned to look at him and grinned. "I was trying to think of another word for it, but I suppose I am."

She could feel him laughing silently beneath her. "Please continue, then. I'm not going to complain."

He brushed a tendril of hair away from her cheek, and as she smiled down at him, her gaze lingered on his neck. Esme's eyes narrowed. She had yet to examine this particular part of her husband closely, there being so many other interesting parts of him, but now she sat up and slid her hands along his jaw, then lower. At first, he smiled expectantly, but then he tensed when he realized what she was looking at.

Her hands had found his throat, and though her fingers were moving gently, it was clear that Carlisle was uneasy at the prospect of any vampire, even her, getting so close to his neck. Now that Esme thought about it, she realized that Carlisle was always careful to keep his neck covered. There was no scar to mark where he'd been changed, and though she'd known from hearing Carlisle's history that the wound must have been a terrible one, it was amazing to her that there wasn't any visible mark left at all. One side of his throat had been all but torn out by the vampire who'd inadvertently changed him all those years ago, but she could see no evidence of it now. His skin was as smooth and perfect as hers, yet though no visible scar had been left behind, the way that Carlisle had tensed, almost reflexively, when she touched his throat told her that he did indeed have a scar there, invisible though it was.

When she saw his expression, she didn't remove her hands, but she leaned down and began to kiss him very slowly, her mouth lingering on his until she felt his tongue began to move. Gently, she drew away and kissed the corner of his mouth, his chin, and then she moved down to his throat. Again, she felt Carlisle shift uneasily beneath her, but somehow she felt the urge to linger on the spot. She wanted to show Carlisle that he didn't have to worry, that after all these years, he'd found someone who he could trust no matter what, who would never hurt him. Without the wound that had ended his life, they never would have met. He never would have known her, wouldn't have changed her, wouldn't love her as he did now.

"I love you," she whispered, raising her head from his neck to look into his eyes again. Esme saw now that though they weren't visible, both of them had scars that would never really go away. Esme sometimes thought that Carlisle had healed hers completely, only to find herself still startled by loud noises or having to struggle to hide her unease when Edward and Carlisle argued, even if it was only a friendly debate. But without her pain, without his, they might never have found each other again.

Carlisle smiled at her, his expression more relaxed now. "And I love you." Then, for a long while, they helped each other to forget all their scars.


	8. Memory

Happy Monday! Sorry for the late post—friends were in town this weekend, so I didn't get much done writing-wise until yesterday, and by the time I went to bed last night, I still wanted to edit everything once more before posting. But today, I have three new chapters for you. This first one is something I really like—I didn't start it until after midnight last night, but when I finished, I was still surprised to look at the clock and see that it was almost 1:30—it's rather cute (too cute perhaps?), but I couldn't resist the idea of this conversation . It also suggests the origin of Isle Esme—I've read other stories where Alice had a hand in it, and I've always thought that it was a very plausible theory…

Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own "Twilight," Stephenie Meyer does. However, this weekend I made cookies and watched "Twilight" with a friend, so I _do_ possess some measure of the joy that "Twilight" generates. Hooray!

_1972_: Memory

Alice's POV

Jasper was out hunting with Edward and Emmett, so Alice, who wasn't really thirsty at the moment, stayed home and started to go through her clothes. It was a chore she always enjoyed, because it was usually followed by a shopping expedition to buy more clothes, so for a while, she made steady progress. But then she paused halfway through the project to recall one of her first visions. A shirt had triggered the memory—Esme had given it to her—and Alice remembered the moment, years before she'd ever met her family, that she first saw a vision of the Cullens.

It was just Carlisle and Esme that she saw in that first vision: they were in bed, which was something Alice saw enough of in visions to not be particularly embarrassed by, and anyway, they were only talking. They were worried about their son, whose name was Edward: they were afraid he was lonely, angry, and they were afraid that he was going to leave. And then Alice saw him leaving a few days later, and she felt sorry for the pair of immortals she quickly recognized as her future parents. They would be her parents, and she and Jasper would go and join their family, just as soon as she found Jasper.

Alice was folding the shirt up again when she saw something, a new vision: it was something fun, something she would do and be glad she'd done, because it would make her parents happy, and that would make her happy. Grinning, she ran out of the room and went to find Carlisle.

He was in his office, bent over a book, but he looked up and smiled as soon as Alice entered the room.

"You have something you're thinking about, and something you want to ask me," Alice explained, seating herself in the chair that faced Carlisle's desk and wrapping her arms around her legs.

Carlisle nodded—the whole family was rarely surprised by her visions anymore. "Next month is our fiftieth anniversary, and I have no idea what to give her."

"It's the gold anniversary, isn't it?" Alice said, knowing he knew that.

"She has gold," he said simply, and Alice grinned at the fact that her father thought her mother deserved _much_ better than gold. Then he looked at her sheepishly. "You already know what I'm going to tell you."

"I knew you needed to tell somebody and that I was the only one at home," Alice said, smiling at him. "And even though I know it already, I'd still like to hear you say it. Now, the first time she kissed you—" she prompted.

"Was long before we were married," Carlisle said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair and telling her the story she'd already seen him tell in her vision. "Esme…a few months after the change, was feeling very bad about…well, she didn't like that I was spending money on her, buying her things when we weren't married and weren't really related in any way. A few months before her son was born, her parents died, and her husband spent all her inheritance. At least, that was what she thought. After she'd been immortal for a few months, she started to wonder. She told me later that she had the idea very suddenly, and that she left before she could second guess herself…"

"She went to Columbus to see if there was anything left of what her parents had left her," Carlisle continued. "She ran there—she couldn't drive yet, and running was faster anyway—and she went to her father's lawyer's office. When I got home from my shift early and found she wasn't there, I left a note for Edward, who was out hunting, then followed her scent all the way to Columbus and got there just before dawn the next day.

I found Esme sitting outside the lawyer's office building—she was surprised to see me, but more than that, she was…embarrassed. She told me that at first she hadn't wanted to go inside for fear of hurting the man—she was still getting used to being close to humans—but then she said she'd thought about it, and had realized that she had no idea what she would say to the man. She didn't want to introduce herself as Mrs. Charles Evanson, but she couldn't very well go in as Esme Platt, just in case Charles had told people she'd run away. In the end, she'd stayed there all night, trying to think of what to do. So, I suggested we go inside together when the building opened, and when we did, I went up to the lawyer's secretary and introduced us as Mr. and Mrs. Cullen."

Alice grinned. "I wish I could have seen Esme's face."

"I had no idea what made me do it," Carlisle said, shaking his head and laughing. "As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I looked at her, and she looked…as shocked as I felt. But I stuck to the story, and since Esme was trying to breathe as little as possible, I told the lawyer, when we met him, that my wife was very distraught, her first husband having died soon after her parents did. The man was suspicious at first—I realized he must have met Esme before, and he could see that she'd changed. But he couldn't explain everything that was different about her, so eventually he told us that there was, in fact, money left from the sale of her parents' estate. So, when we left the office, Esme was a few hundred dollars richer, and she seemed…very relieved. At first, I thought she was just glad to be outside, away from the smell of humans, but then she turned to me, and…kissed me on the cheek."

Alice giggled. "That's my favorite part of this story. That you were so surprised."

"I was…sort of frozen for a few seconds," Carlisle said, sighing again but still looking amused. "I was stunned that she'd done that, without even thinking about it. Esme thanked me, told me that now she wouldn't feel like such a burden to me, and then, she noticed that there was something sort of…off about me. And she looked a little embarrassed again, but she laughed, and said, 'Hasn't anyone ever kissed you before?' And I told her, no, and she looked sort of amazed, and then embarrassed again. Then we ran home, and we never talked about that day again until after we were married."

"And now you need a gift for her that shows her she still stuns you like that, every day," Alice said eagerly.

Carlisle nodded. "She's…the biggest surprise of my life." Then he smiled at her. "She sort of appeared and astonished me the same way you did with Jasper."

Alice grinned. "Well, Esme likes surprises too, and it just so happens that I already know what you're going to get her, and it will be a _huge_ surprise. I'm not going to tell you exactly what it is, but it's going to be _big_, and you're going to see an ad for it at work today. Another doctor's going to show you, and he's going to laugh and say what a crazy thing it would be for someone to actually buy, and you're going to come home and buy it. Today."

Carlisle closed his eyes for a moment, looking relieved, and Alice beamed at him. He worked so hard, he did so much for their family and made Esme so happy that it was nice to be able to help him like this. "Okay," he said nodding. "Thank you, Alice. For your help. And for listening."  
"Any time," Alice said brightly, hopping out of the chair. "Just promise me you'll let me and Jasper borrow it sometime."

Carlisle blinked. "Okay," he said, looking confused but pleased with the result of their conversation. "I promise."

"Have a good day at work then," Alice called, skipping out the door and back to her room. Jasper was home, she could smell him in the house, and she'd just seen them closing the door to their room and making a new memory.

Reviews make me smile!


	9. Family

Here's a short one—again, it was an idea I just couldn't resist (such an easy accident to imagine…) Also, I probably won't be posting the second part of my rated M story, "The Honeymoon," until next week. Sorry about that, but when I write a lemon, I want to get it right…

Disclaimer: I don't own "Twilight." Wait, is my name Stephenie Meyer? Nope, it's not, so I don't own it.

_1957_: Family

Emmett's POV

This was…awkward. Edward was in the chair next to Emmett's, and they were waiting in the principal's office for Esme to show up. They'd been walking down the hall, on their way to meet Rosalie in the cafeteria, when Emmett had nudged Edward—the latest girl to develop an obsession with him was following them—and Edward, irritated, had nudged him back. Emmett, forgetting his incredible strength for a split second, had shoved Edward in the other direction—directly into a large glass trophy case.

All the students who saw it happen said it was a miracle that Edward hadn't been hurt by the broken glass. Edward himself had been seething with silent rage ever since it had happened, but Emmett had been struggling not to laugh, especially since they'd been summoned to the principal's office. Then Esme had been called to come and pick them up.

_Come on, this would be really funny if she wasn't going to be furious_, Emmett thought.

"Shut up," Edward said, speaking too quietly and his lips moving too quickly for the human in the room to detect. Emmett bit back a laugh and didn't speak again. They'd already gotten a lecture and a month's detention—they didn't need to get expelled, not to mention risk detection, by fighting in and thereby destroying the principal's office, which was what would happen if he provoked Edward further. Just then, the secretary opened the office door to announce Esme's arrival, which forced Emmett to go back to biting his tongue. Really, the situation they were in was so ridiculous that it was almost impossible not to laugh. Except…

When Esme entered the room, for all of a second, she looked every inch a vampire. And her face…Emmett actually flinched, and he felt Edward do the same beside him, but by then, Esme had put on a polite, thoroughly human expression of contrition mixed with ire. She apologized to the principal, said something about her sons paying for the damage they'd done, and then, per her request, the principal explained exactly what had happened. Esme relaxed very slightly when she heard the human's explanation for the broken trophy case—they'd been fighting, Edward had hit the case hard enough to shatter it, both boys were startled by what had happened, and since they seemed sincerely sorry for what could only have been an accident, neither Edward nor Emmett was going to be suspended. Esme thanked the principal for this, and after another formal apology, she wished the principal a good afternoon and left the office, Edward and Emmett and tow.

No one spoke until they were sitting in the car, though at first, Esme didn't really speak; instead, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths. Her hands were clenched into fists, but Emmett could tell that she wasn't just angry—she was worried too.

"Sorry, Mom," Emmett muttered, hearing genuine regret in his voice. Carlisle and Esme often had to be patient, what with their _five_ vampire children, but even if they expected occasional disasters like this, Emmett still didn't like being involved in one.

"We just moved," Edward said quietly, "but it might be time to relocate again, as soon as the school year's over."

Esme took one more deep breath. "These things…they can't keep happening so often, all right? I know you two have heard it all before, but we've been drawing too much attention to ourselves lately. The more of us that live together—"

"The harder it is for us to stay inconspicuous," Edward finished soberly. "You're right."

"Rose and I could move out again for a while," Emmett suggested quietly.

Esme shook her head. "You two just got back, you don't need to leave again so soon. Come on, I'll take you home. Later I'll pick up Rosalie, and then when Carlisle gets back from work, we'll talk about what we need to do." She smiled faintly. "_Practice_, I suppose, is the long term solution. Someday, we'll be so used to blending in with humans as a family that we won't attract unwanted attention anymore."

Emmett couldn't help but grin at the thought of it: _That'll be us: a perfectly average, unremarkable vampire family. _Edward smiled a little bit at that. Being a Cullen, Emmett had decided long ago, sometimes meant wanting to strangle the very people you were so fiercely protective of. But even Edward agreed that days like this were worth it if they were the price the Cullens paid for staying together.

He didn't really like to think about it, but already, Emmett could barely remember what his human family had been like. All he had, all any of them had, was this family, as conspicuous as that could be at times. Then he smiled at Esme—his human Mom, he thought, wouldn't have been so easygoing about something like this, even though it _had_ been an accident. So, when they got back to the house and got out of the car, Emmett slipped around to the driver's side and gave Esme a hug.

"Thanks for not killing us, Mom," he said.

Esme tried to scowl at him, but failed. "Just be more careful in the future, Emmett. Wait until you get home to push your brother into things."

Edward laughed. "Right, like he can catch me at home."

Emmett grinned and took off running after Edward, knowing he couldn't catch him, but enjoying the feeling of his speed, his strength as they raced toward the forest. Then what Esme would have thought of as a bad idea occurred to him: _If we weren't in school, then we couldn't get in trouble there. Maybe we should cut school early more often._

"Bad idea," Edward agreed from a few yards ahead.

"Why?" Emmett called cheerfully. "Shouldn't we spend more time together as a family?"


	10. Home

Hi there—one more note: I'll be camping this weekend, so I'll probably post the next chapter on Friday (rather than updating on Sunday like I usually do). Just so you know…

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns "Twilight," not me, and ONLY 103 DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON!!!

_1950_: Home

Jasper's POV

"There it is!" Alice whispered, her voice ecstatic. Jasper sighed. She was looking forward to this, but he wasn't. Meeting unknown, and no matter what Alice said, potentially hostile vampires wasn't his idea of a good time. But Alice was certain about the Cullens, so here he was. After nearly a century of immortality, Alice was the only thing _he_ felt certain of, so today they were going to introduce themselves to their new family.

The house was just a few yards away, and it was in a deeply wooded area not far from a lake. The hunting, Alice had told him, was good, lots of carnivores, which didn't make Jasper feel any more enthusiastic about his new diet. He was happy not to be killing humans anymore—that part was worth anything, _Alice_ was worth anything, but it was still hard to adjust to the new tastes of the blood of nonhuman animals. Still, carnivores were something to look forward too: the stronger the animal, the better the blood in most cases, though nothing could equal…Jasper blinked and tried not to think about it, and beside him, Alice squeezed his hand.

"Let's go," she said, her voice at a normal volume, and then she pulled him out of the trees.

Jasper took a step forward without thinking, but then he had to struggle not to pick her up and carry her back to the tree line.

"What, we're just going to go knock on the door?" he wondered tensely. Alice had described all of the Cullens, and Emmett especially wasn't someone he wanted to tangle with. Or Edward, the mind-reading one.

"That's the plan, yes," Alice said calmly, tapping her forehead and smiling. "I told you, Jazz—everything's going to be fine."

"Fine," he repeated, following her slowly and trying not to drop into a defensive crouch as he caught the scent of other vampires.

As soon as they stepped onto the front porch, Jasper had to bite back a growl—there were clearly vampires inside this house, and almost a hundred years of hard-earned experience was telling him to leave before they attacked. When Alice saw his expression, she simply looked into his eyes until he calmed down a little.

"I'm _sure_ that this is our home now," she whispered, and he believed her, so he stayed where he was and tried to relax. Then Alice knocked on the door.

The vampires inside could obviously smell them now too. The approaching footsteps were slow, cautious, and then an immortal with blond hair and golden eyes opened the door and stepped onto the porch.

"Hi, Carlisle!' Alice said eagerly, hopping forward and giving the man she saw as her new father a hug. Jasper barely suppressed the urge to grab her and get her behind him to defend her against attack, but the other immortal was too surprised by Alice to even avoid her embrace.

"I'm Alice, and this is Jasper. Oh good, Esme's here too!" Alice bounded forward and gave a second hug to an equally startled vampire. Esme actually went so far as to pat Alice on the back slightly before she stepped away. The couple, for Jasper could see that they were mates, were looking at each other over the top of Alice's head, but they didn't seem hostile. They just looked…surprised. Jasper relaxed ever so slightly, but he expected a more violent reaction from the other Cullens.

"I saw you," Alice explained brightly. "It's so nice to finally meet you, but I've been seeing you for years now in visions."

"Visions?" Carlisle repeated, finally finding his voice.

"Alice, slow down a little," Jasper said quietly, calming the situation slightly. Carlisle and Esme weren't a threat, and their emotions were by no means volatile, but if another member of the coven showed up and didn't understand what was going on…

Esme looked at Jasper, startled. "Did you do that?"

Now it was Jasper's turn to be unnerved. "How could you tell it was me?"

"I just…felt calm all of a sudden. For no reason," Esme said, frowning. "But then I wondered why and…" She shrugged helplessly. Jasper studied her for a moment: she had no extra abilities, but she was perceptive. She wasn't afraid of them either—Jasper surprised himself by feeling relief at this—she was merely curious, like her mate.

"It seems that the two of you are very talented," Carlisle said, moving to Esme's side

and putting his arm around her—that calmed her better. To Jasper's surprise, Carlisle didn't sound covetous when he spoke—Maria was over the moon every time a rumor of an immortal with extra abilities surfaced, for such creatures were always a valuable addition to a coven. But Carlisle was merely puzzled at the sudden arrival of two strange vampires on his doorstep.

"Would you like to come in and explain how you know us?" he offered.

Alice grinned at Jasper and took his hand to pull him into the house. Her smile quite plainly said, _I told you so._ "We'd love to," she said.

It took a surprisingly short amount of time to explain things. Alice told Carlisle and Esme about how she'd seen her future as soon as the change had ended: she'd seen herself finding Jasper, and then she'd seen them going to live with the Cullens. Then Jasper told them how he'd been changed, his life with Maria, and how he'd wandered until Alice had found him. It was surprisingly easy to discuss his history with what were, to him, total strangers, but having Alice at his side, beaming at their new parents certainly helped.

'Parents,' he kept thinking, was an odd way to describe Carlisle and Esme—they had both been changed young, when they were in their twenties—but somehow, the description fit. Esme certainly seemed to be a maternal sort of person: she was looking at them with quiet delight, and Jasper could feel how happy she was at the thought of two new additions to their family. Carlisle too felt enthusiastic—he explained that he'd met few immortals like them before, vampires who developed a conscience on their own being apparently very rare. Then the four of them went upstairs to his office, and Carlisle told them about himself.

Jasper had never heard anything like it: no wonder Carlisle had had to create a companion as opposed to finding one. It wasn't unheard of for a vampire to grow weary of the endless slaughter of humans, but for one to resist their thirst even as a newborn was uncanny. And though Esme's history was far shorter than her husband's, Jasper was still rather startled to find himself engrossed in her tale, even sympathizing with the story of what had led to her death. He'd certainly changed since leaving Maria.

"You're welcome to stay," Esme said after Alice had given her another hug. "Though I guess you've seen that happening already."

"The things I see change with the actions of the people involved," Alice explained with a smile. "If the two of you had told us 'no,' then what happens next would be different. But since we're staying, do you mind if I go pick out a bedroom?"

"Go ahead," Carlisle said, looking bemused. Alice grinned, opened the door and ran down the hall.

"Thanks!" she called. "I already know which one I want!"

"Thank you," Jasper said quietly. "For having us."

Carlisle and Esme both smiled at him, and Jasper could feel that they were happy to meet him. They…liked him, which was an unfamiliar prospect. They also liked Alice, which came as no surprise at all. Suddenly, Jasper realized that they were finally finished wandering. These were the people they'd been looking for all this time: they'd finally come home.


	11. Gift

THANKS SO MUCH TO EVERYONE FOR YOUR WONDERFUL REVIEWS!!! (Reviews always make my day, which is why that last sentence is in all caps—I really do get that excited). A short update today, and then I've got a longer chapter that I'm almost finished with that I'll be posting sometime next week (before the usual Sunday update). The idea for this story just made me laugh so much that I had to give the concept its own chapter—hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: "Twilight" is owned by Stephenie Meyer, not me, and ONLY 97 DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON!!! (I recounted, and I think I'm right about the number of days this time).

_1968_: Gift

Carlisle's POV

He'd just graduated from medical school, again, and now, a few hours after the ceremony, Carlisle was sitting in his office, studying a gift a professor had given him. He'd gone to a small school this time, a reputable but not especially prestigious college, for the simple fact that a degree from this particular school wouldn't be like a degree from Harvard or Columbia—it wouldn't impress people too much, wouldn't draw attention to itself. More than ever now, Carlisle was eager to be as inconspicuous as possible. They were all trying so hard, Esme and their children, but mistakes happened, and at the moment, Carlisle felt the need to lay low, live in a rural area for a few years, for Jasper's sake in particular. They'd all gone over a map the previous night, looking for likely small towns up in Maine, Southern Canada, and Oregon too. It had been awhile since they'd lived out west.

At the moment though, thoughts of relocation and the struggles of his children were forgotten. He'd been staring at the parcel he'd unwrapped for several minutes now, trying to decide if he should laugh or run and find Esme. It was, he acknowledged, a fitting gift in the eyes of the human who had given it to him—attending a small school had meant smaller classes, and that had meant he'd stood out, always an unpleasant prospect. Classmates had invited him to meet them for drinks, had asked him to join their study sessions, and he'd always politely declined. For a while, no one had commented on this behavior. He'd begun to hope that no one had even noticed the distance he maintained from other students when he started to catch the shrewd looks aimed in his direction, the way a few women in his class sometimes stole unhappy glances at his left hand…

Apparently, it had come to the attention of at least one professor, one of Carlisle's favorite teachers in many years as it happened, that he was a newlywed. The assumptions that this knowledge generated made Carlisle grateful, as he often was, that he didn't possess Edward's talent—the knowing looking were bad enough, but if he'd had to hear the exact contents of his classmates' thoughts, he was certain that it would have been impossible to keep from laughing. He and Esme had been married for almost half a century: being mistaken for a newlywed was, he thought with a smile, evidence of the depth of their continuing passion for each other, even after all these years.

As if she'd heard him thinking, Esme stepped through the open door, holding a vase of fresh flowers.

"Hi," she said, smiling. "I thought I'd just bring in one more bunch of roses from the greenhouse before we start packing." She set the vase down, and when she paused, he could feel her studying his expression, as well as what he was holding. "You're trying not to laugh about something. Is that the new Tom Wolfe book that Edward told me was so entertaining? Of course, I think he was being sarcastic."

Carlisle bit back a chuckle—he wanted to act natural when he showed her this. "He was, but no, this is another new book. Dr. Sanders gave it to me."

Esme raised her eyebrows. "An entertaining textbook?"

"Sort of," Carlisle said, grinning as she perched on the arm of his chair and opened the book when he handed it to her. "It's about…anatomy, in a sense."

Esme gasped and then covered her mouth when she snorted with laughter. "Oh...wow. A _professor_ gave you this?"

"He heard, apparently from a classmate, that I was recently married, and I suppose he thought we might appreciate some…fresh ideas."

Esme giggled again, then examined the cover of the book. "The Kama Sutra. Hmm. This does look very…educational."

Carlisle chuckled and slid his arm around her. "I was hoping you might like to flip through it with me. After all, we've had almost fifty years together to explore the wonders of the human body, but as I understand it, this book's contents were compiled over a period of centuries.

Esme grinned down at him and snuggled closer before opening the book again. The first few pages offered few surprises, but then…

"Huh. That looks…interesting," Carlisle said in what he hoped was a neutral voice.

"Yeah," Esme agreed faintly. To his delight, she folded down the top corner of the page before turning to the next one.

"We've done that before," she said thoughtfully, "but seeing it, rather than doing it…I mean, it must be hard for humans to move like that without getting tired."

"Maybe immortals contributed to the Kama Sutra without the human authors knowing what they were," he murmured, turning his head to kiss her chin and neck as she turned another page.

He heard her swift intake of breath before the arm she'd twined around his neck pulled him closer to her. "Okay, we've never done _that_."

He studied the picture, then smiled up at her. "No. Should we try it?"

Esme looked toward the open door, considering. "Emmett and Jasper are out hunting, Edward's at the library, and Rose and Alice are shopping," she said, her smile almost feral as she quickly stood and pulled him to his feet. Carlisle grinned—he loved to see this side of her, the playful, sexy Esme that no one else knew. They were in their room in seconds, and the book came too. It was, as it turned out, a very appropriate gift, even if they weren't newlyweds in the traditional sense; after all, if a person was immortal, what was fifty years of marriage, really? Every time they were alone, Carlisle was reminded all over again that they were eternally young and eternally in love, and in that sense, the honeymoon was never really going to end.


	12. Blood

Hi everyone! Sorry, I meant to update sooner, but I'm painting this weekend, so…that took a while. Also, as always, thank you for all your wonderful reviews! (They always make my day ).

Only one chapter this week, but it's rather long-ish. It's also post-"Breaking Dawn," a story genre which I consider sort of fraught with peril (PLEASE write more, Stephenie Meyer! I have ever so many questions about what happens next!), but I think this turned out pretty well. Jacob's just so much fun as a narrator (as is Bella), so I'm really going to need to find a way to do more Jacob chapters. (Please note that I know virtually nothing about medicine, so if something in this chapter is incorrect, then you'll know that the Internet has led me astray). By the way, I'll be adding a second chapter to my rated-M fic, "The Honeymoon," later this week—this one's going to be from Carlisle's POV, so please check that out if you get the chance.

Hope you enjoy and have a great week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns "Twilight;" I own only the joy I derive from knowing that THERE ARE ONLY EIGHTY-EIGHT MORE DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON!

_2007_: Blood

Jacob's POV

Okay, so maybe I tried to ignore it for longer than I should have. But it was just a smell, you know? It didn't seem like it could be a big deal. But then it didn't go away, and I started to worry.

Here's what happened: Billy started to smell weird. I know, too much information, and at first I didn't even think about mentioning it—what's the best way to tell your dad he smells funny? I'd been noticing it for a while when Leah mentioned it to me—the girl is nothing if not blunt—and then when I asked Seth, he admitted that he'd noticed something strange too. That got me to thinking about something that Dr. Fang had told me: how he can sometimes use his sense of smell (probably not quite as good as ours, at least when we're in wolf form, but still way better than a human's) to diagnose people. Being sick can change your body chemistry, and that changes how you smell, so when I finally realized that I couldn't really pin down what Billy smelled like—he smelled bad, but not like garbage or anything you'd call 'smelly,' just bad—I started to think he might be sick.

Billy hates going to the doctor—he won't go, no matter how much I pester him, and the same goes for Sue and my sisters. He's been in and out of the hospital for his diabetes a few times before, so I guess it's no surprise he doesn't like anything involving doctors. And I figured that if I told him that I was worried, he'd just dig in his heels and insist there was nothing wrong with him, so the only way to get him checked out was to catch him by surprise. Carlisle, I knew, would be able to help me out with that.

I called his cell on a Friday afternoon, knowing that Billy would be around the house all day Saturday watching the Mariners game with Charlie.

"Hello, Jacob," Carlisle said, picking up on the second ring.

"Hey doc," I said, wishing I had had a plan for how I was going to say this. Edward's mind-reading can really get annoying, but at least it makes explaining things a breeze. "Um, do you think you could come out to La Push tomorrow real quick?"

"Of course," he said, sounding curious. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, I think there might be something wrong with Billy," I said awkwardly. "It's just…his scent's changed lately, and I don't why. It's sort of…too sweet. Almost like you guys, you know, but different than that."

"Have you noticed any other symptoms?" Carlisle asked, immediately shifting to doctor mode.

"Not really," I said, trying to think if I had. "I guess…he might have lost a little weight, and it kind of seems like he gets tired easy. I was thinking it was something to do with his diabetes."

"You're probably right," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "I know that he's careful about taking his medication, but I've seen the way he eats—he's getting to the age where he needs to start watching his diet a bit more carefully…"  
I groaned. "Please don't say the word 'diet' in front of Billy. He'd probably die of a heart attack right then and there."  
"All right, I'll be careful," Carlisle said, chuckling. "What time should I come out tomorrow? It's supposed to be cloudy all day."

"Maybe at two, during the game?" I suggested. "Hey, this isn't really serious, is it? I mean, the last complication he had from diabetes was…you know, he ended up in the wheelchair." Seeing my dad lose the ability to walk had been bad enough—I wasn't ready for anything else to happen to Billy.

"I wouldn't worry too much, Jake," Carlisle said. "If he's careful about his medication and tries some better eating habits, he'll be fine. I'll do a blood test to check his blood sugar though—maybe he just needs a change of medication. By the way, do you mind if Esme comes out with me? We're going to run to Seattle tonight to see a concert, and we'll be getting back to town early in the afternoon tomorrow anyway."

I thought about the word 'run'—would they actually be running, or did he just mean an overnight trip the way that people who weren't vampires talked about 'running' to Seattle for an evening out? "Sure, that's fine," I said.

Actually, I wasn't totally certain that Sam would feel it was fine—ever since I'd split from his pack, we'd avoided talking about my newfound friendship with the Cullens, and we'd never actually ironed out the details of just how many bloodsuckers were allowed in La Push—Carlisle was accepted because he helped out the rez doctor sometimes, but Carlisle was the exception to the "no leeches on our land" rule. Still it was my house, my land, and my pack we were talking about here—it took me a split second to decide that Sam didn't really get a say. Besides, Seth would be over to watch the game, and he likes to see Carlisle and Esme as much as I do. Leah calls Esme our "bloodsucking second mom," but you'd be surprised how easy it is to ignore Leah when you want to.

"We'll see you tomorrow, then," Carlisle said. I was sort of glad he didn't mention the fact that I'd just seen him the night before—I'd had dinner at the Cullens' house and stayed late playing with Nessie, but I hadn't wanted to mention the whole Billy thing with an audience around.

After I hung up, I went to the movies with Quil and Embry—we'd been planning on it anyway, but after talking to Carlisle, I somehow felt like it was really important that Billy not figure out that something was up. He's better than a lot of people at the rez about the whole vampire thing, but having a bloodsucker come at him with a syringe was a tense moment that I didn't want him thinking about in advance.

Saturdays are made for sleeping until noon, so that's what I did the next day. By the time I got up, Billy was already pulling bags of chips out of the cupboard and checking to see that the beer he'd gotten that morning was chilled.

"Gonna watch with us?" Billy asked, wheeling himself into the living room while I devoured a box of cereal—he made a face, probably because this was the third box of cereal I'd gone through in as many days. What can I say? When I'm not over at the Cullens, where there's always tons of food waiting for me, it's not like I can help emptying the cupboards in our house.

"Yeah, I figured I'd hang out here today," I said innocently.  
Oops. Billy looked suspicious immediately. "You're not going over to the Cullens?"

"Nope. Blondie, Alice and Bella are taking Nessie shopping today," I said, which was the truth, though their girl time activity probably wouldn't take all day. Billy looked convinced though, so I retreated to my room and tried to read a book that Nessie had loaned me until Charlie and Sue showed up. They were in the squad car, and Leah and Seth were riding in the back, behind the screen that's there to keep criminals from hitting the cops in the front when they're riding in it.

"Better leave 'em in there, Chief!" I called when Billy and I met them at the door. Leah made a face at me, but Seth laughed.

"Why, you two broken any laws lately?" Charlie asked, smiling at the Clearwaters. It was sort of a relief to everybody, Sue and Charlie especially, that Seth and Leah both liked Chief Swan. When the rest of the pack first heard they were dating, I think we all expected Leah to throw a fit about it, but as it turned out, she was just happy that her mom was happy. Of course, since I can occasionally read Leah's thoughts, I know that she's not always thrilled with the new arrangement, but I have to hand it to the girl: she does a pretty convincing job of pretending in front of Sue.

We went inside, where Charlie grabbed four beers out of the fridge (Leah can drink, and she does, _smugly,_ though our bodies burn off alcohol so fast that it doesn't even do anything to us), and then everybody dove for the snacks. Billy, Charlie and Sue ate faster than they would have at a normal get together—hanging out with wolves all the time teaches humans that if they want some food, then they better hurry before we can devour it all.

Around 1:30, I started to get a little edgy, and by five minutes till two, I was practically bouncing off the couch, looking out the window every few seconds to check for a black Mercedes. Only Seth and Leah seemed to notice—the game was kinda dull, but Billy and Charlie were planning a fishing trip for the next day, so they were distracted. Eventually though, Sue noticed that I was waiting for something too.

"Jake, what's up?" she asked. "You seem jumpy."

I was about to deny that when there was a knock on the door and I jumped.

"I'll get it," I said, hopping off the couch. Even Billy and Charlie were looking at me now, but I figured that since the Cullens were already at the door, it was too late for Billy to make a break for it.

"Hi," I said, opening the door for Carlisle and Esme, who were standing on my doorstep in clothes that looked casual but probably cost more than everything in my closet combined. Other vampires, as far as I can tell, aren't as big on dressing nice as the Cullens are, but then the Cullens don't eat people, so I guess it figures that they're more civilized in other ways too. Carlisle and Esme were also holding hands—something I've learned about vampires that I never expected is that they're really touchy feely, at least with their spouses, or maybe 'mates' is a better word. Walk in unexpectedly on a pair of married vampires and you're likely to witness a public display of affection that you really could have done without ever seeing.

"Living room?" Carlisle murmured—he could tell I was trying to be secretive about this.

"Yeah, they're watching the game, but the Mariners are down six zero, so they're not paying close attention right now. How long does it take?"

"Just a few minutes," Carlisle said, raising his bag. "I've got everything I need here. Should we come in?"

"Yeah, let's get this over with," I muttered. "Thanks, by the way."

Carlisle smiled and so did Esme. She looked sympathetic, but also a bit nervous. Then I remembered that human blood near any vampire but Carlisle might not be a good idea. Still, they both stepped into the house, and Carlisle had asked if Esme could come, so he must trust her. I took a deep breath and decided I did too—anyway, with three wolves and Carlisle in the room, it wasn't like she was going to have a chance to get to Billy anyway.

Our front door opens right into the living room, so as soon as the Cullens stepped inside, everyone knew they were there. Leah was already tense—she'd probably been looking over my shoulder—while everyone else just looked sort of surprised.

"Hello," Carlisle said easily. "Jake says the game isn't going well."

"Uh, hi," Billy said awkwardly. "Yeah, they're just about to bring out a new pitcher though."

"Hi, Carlisle, Esme," Charlie said, looking as startled as Billy did to see his in-laws. He even stood up and motioned toward the kitchen. "Either of you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you, Charlie," Esme said, smiling at Charlie sympathetically—he tries to pretend that there's nothing weird about the Cullens, and he doesn't really know much for sure, but what he suspects is enough to freak him out. "We were just on our way back from Seattle and we thought we'd stop by."

"Here, sit down," Sue said, looking a lot less unhappy than she might have at the sudden appearance of vampires. Carlisle and Esme said hi to Seth and Leah before taking the space on the sofa that Sue had indicated. Yeah, vampires don't need to sit down, but I was still happy to see that everybody was being polite so far, though Leah was wrinkling her nose—she never misses an opportunity to complain about the smell of bloodsucker.

"What'd you do in Seattle?" Seth asked—poor kid can't wait to get his driver's license.

"We went to a concert and did a little shopping for Nessie," Carlisle said, putting his arm around Esme. Seriously, you can't sit married vampires next to each other and not have them cuddling up to each other in about five seconds.

"That little girl has more clothes than any kid I've ever met," Charlie said gruffly. He doesn't know what Nessie is exactly, but that doesn't mean he isn't crazy about her, just like the rest of us.

"Her mom and aunts are taking her out shopping today too," Esme said, laughing. "Last night, we got her a few books. Today is clothes. She outgrows things so fast."

"They all do," Sue said, giving Seth a significant look. "Shoes especially."

"You better be more careful with sneakers," Charlie said. "I saw what was left of your last pair in the garbage." It looked like he was struggling not to imagine how Seth might have destroyed his latest pair of shoes—he's only seen me phase, but now he wonders about all the kids on the rez.

"I've been working out a lot," Seth said, grinning at me. Leah rolled her eyes, but I had to try not to laugh. _Great cover story, kid._ "That's why they wear out so fast."

"Have you lost weight, Billy?" Esme asked innocently.

Billy smiled, looking pleased with himself. "A little. I've been watching a lot of baseball this season, so maybe watching other people exercise is as good as doing it myself."

I kind of made a face when he wasn't looking—Billy thought he was healthy, when in reality, it was just the opposite.

"Could be," Carlisle said conversationally, examining Billy himself now. "But I think it might be something else."

Billy frowned, and then he glanced at me before I had the chance to stare at the TV like an innocent person would. As it was, I must have looked sort of guilty when he looked at me, and he frowned. "I smell a rat," he muttered.

"Hey, you're the one who won't go to a doctor," I said defensively. "So, I brought one to you."

"What, you sick?" Charlie wondered, looking at Billy.

"No," Billy said stubbornly.

"Like hell you're not," I muttered.

"There's an easy way to find out," Carlisle said patiently, pulling something out of his bag. I recognized it as one of those blood test things you see advertised on TV sometimes (usually during the news, when old farts are watching TV). Billy never uses one of those—he just takes his pills every day and tries to watch what he eats (though he doesn't always watch healthy stuff), so he was looking at the thing suspiciously from the other side of the living room. Carlisle didn't move from his seat though, so Billy relaxed a little bit.

"Is this really necessary?" he asked.

"Is that for testing blood sugar?" Sue wondered.

"It is," Carlisle said. "If you don't mind, Billy, I'll test your blood, once. If the reading is normal, I'll leave you alone, though I can't promise Jake will."

"I won't," I said grimly.

"All right," Billy said, holding out his hand and staring hard at the TV. "Just get it over with."

"I'll be very quick," Carlisle promised, crossing the room at a human pace and using the little meter to prick one of Billy's fingers. I heard a click and Billy tensed slightly—so did Esme—and then Carlisle pulled the meter away and examined it. I was sort of edgy too—I was actually standing behind Esme, not really worried she'd freak out or anything, but still, it couldn't hurt to be close—and then she turned around and smiled at me, looking sort of guilty. I cringed and took a step back—Esme was uncomfortable, but she wasn't about to dive at Billy, and I felt bad for showing her I'd been a little worried she would.

Esme's one of the nicest people I know, human or vampire, and it's gotta be tough to be as kind as she is and have to constantly fight the urge to kill people. It was almost too fast for me to notice, but I think Carlisle looked at her too—it looked like he felt even worse than she did. I wondered suddenly if she'd asked to come; the way I understood it, if Esme was going to get as good as Carlisle was about handling the smell of blood, she was going to need at least another century of practice, but maybe Esme hadn't been thinking about that at all. Maybe she'd just wanted to ride along with Carlisle, just like a normal couple might visit someone together.

After a few moments of waiting, Carlisle looked down at the meter and turned it so Billy could see.

"Over two hundred isn't good, Billy," Carlisle said gently when Billy stared blankly at the number on the little screen.

"What's wrong with him?" Seth demanded.

"Probably he just needs some different diabetes medication," Carlisle said, glancing at me. "When you talked to me, Jake, you mentioned noticing a scent sort of like ours."

"What, like something sickeningly sweet?" Leah said. She said it in a curious way rather than a rude way, so that was something.

"Yes," Carlisle agreed. "That made me think of diabetes, because with that illness, the body doesn't process sugar the way it should. It builds up instead of getting attached to cells and being metabolized."

"So what do I need to do?" Billy asked quietly. I breathed a little easier when I heard that—if he really believed that he needed different meds, then at least now he might do something about it.

"If I take a blood sample now, I can take it to the lab at the hospital and test it so we know for sure," Carlisle explained. "If it comes back and confirms my diagnosis, I'll give you a prescription for some new medication. Improve your diet a little and you should be just fine."

Now Billy looked relieved too—like me, he'd probably been imagining that this time, his diabetes was going to cause him to go blind or get his limbs chopped off or something; I inherited my overactive imagination from my dad.

"Okay then. Thanks, Doc."

"Thank you," I said, speaking so quietly that I didn't think anyone but the two vampires heard me. Then, Carlisle pulled a syringe from his bag and removed the plastic cap that kept it sterile. He slid the needle into Billy's arm, and this time, Seth and Leah tensed up at the same time me and Esme did. At least Seth tried to be inconspicuous about it, but Leah stared right at Esme while she gripped the arm of the couch so hard that she left a dent. I gritted my teeth and prepared to step into the kitchen and phase if I had to, but once again, the smell of blood in the air dissipated and the tense moment passed.

In less than a minute, Carlisle had the small vial of Billy's blood in a little cooler in his bag, he'd wrapped up Billy's arm in an ace bandage, and then he was back on the couch, sitting with his arm around Esme. She relaxed visibly when she was sure she was safe, which meant Billy was safe too. Sue had ignored the way the three of us were watching Esme while Carlisle worked, but Charlie had noticed. He wasn't sure just what he'd noticed, but he wasn't happy.

"Hate the sight of blood, huh?" he guessed uneasily.

Esme smiled, but she looked sort of shaky, like her reaction to the blood really had made her feel a little sick. "Something like that," she said, and Carlisle squeezed her shoulder.

For a few minutes, all of us pretended to be normal. We watched the game, Sue got Charlie another beer, and Esme asked Seth how school was going. But then Charlie asked something awkward just when I was pretty sure that the Cullens were getting ready to leave. As soon as he opened his mouth, I knew it was going to be something bad.

"How long have you guys been married?" Charlie said suddenly. "I mean, when you first came to town, you told me six years, but…"

Yikes. I guess this was the safest question that Charlie could bring himself to ask two people who had sort of made him nervous ever since Bella had been changed, but still, it wasn't really a good thing that he was wondering about this. I mean, Carlisle and Esme look like they're in their twenties because they _are_, but they've been claiming to be older for a while now. If Charlie had noticed this, how many other people had? If you're human, thinking too much about the Cullens just isn't safe.

"How long have we _really_ been married?" Carlisle said, guessing Charlie's real question.

Charlie nodded, looking nervous. Sue actually squeezed his hand. Oh boy. Even I didn't know exactly how long—

Carlisle and Esme looked at each other. "Well," Carlisle said, smiling at Esme—you could tell he wanted to tell the truth because he was happy about it, but I also guessed that he didn't want to scare Charlie.

"Eighty-six years," Esme said quietly, smiling back at him. "Next week."

_Whoa_, was my first thought, but then I decided I wasn't really that surprised. Even when they're holding hands like they're on their first date, Carlisle and Esme really do seem like they've been married forever.

Charlie looked really pale for a few seconds, but then he sort of nodded. "Oh," he said faintly. "Um…congratulations."

"Thanks, Charlie," Carlisle said, grinning. He and Esme got up to leave at that point, which was sort of a relief to me—the Cullens could probably hear from Charlie's rapid heartbeat just how well he was processing this information, but I think it was obvious to everyone that the Chief had had enough weirdness for one day.

"We should probably get going," Carlisle said. "Thank you for having us, Billy."

"Thanks for coming," Billy said sincerely. "Stop by any time."

_Good_, I thought. _The old man's stubborn about going to the doctor, but at least he doesn't have a death wish. Now I just have to make sure he takes his new pills._

"I'll call you early this week," Carlisle promised.

"See you later, Jacob," Esme said.

"See you," I said, smiling at the thought of seeing Nessie when I went to the Cullens' that evening. Nessie…I don't know where I'll be in eighty-five years, but even if, like Carlisle and Esme, we're living in _Forks_ of all places, I won't mind, just as long as I'm beside her.


	13. Solitude

Thanks so much for the great reviews (and corrections) for the last chapter—I really can't wait until the official "Twilight" guide book comes out so it'll be easier to keep dates (and also personal histories) straight in my mind—as it is, I'm bad about using the online character guides, and sometimes that gets me into trouble. Anyway, sorry about the late update—it's the last week before school starts, so I've been sort of frantically trying to finish things. The two chapters for this week are both rather short and angsty, but I liked the tone of both, and each chapter deals with either Carlisle or Esme dealing with missing the other in the years between the time they first met and the time they 'met' again in the morgue in Ashland. That said, look for more cheerful fare next week (I've got a couple fluffy end of summer chapters that I'm working on ).

Hope you have a good week, and if you've got the time to review, please hit the button below and do so!

Disclaimer: I don't own "Twilight." Too bad…but there are ONLY 80 DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON!!!

_1920_: Solitude

Esme's POV

It was almost the end of the year, 1921 just a few weeks away, and Esme was afraid. She was also excited, eager to meet the child growing inside her, but she had no idea where to begin building a life with her little son or daughter. She had no strong desire to stay in Ashland, but she'd enjoyed teaching these past months, and she wondered if she could find as good a job elsewhere. If nothing else, life in Ashland provided at least the illusion of safety.

It had been easy to blend in when she'd first arrived; she'd told people that her name was Esme Platt, and that she was recently widowed. A teacher at the school in Ashland had taken pity on her and offered her a job, and from then on, Esme had been able to lead what outwardly resembled a normal life. A typical day was pleasant but uneventful: she rose early, then went to school and prepared for the students' arrival. She helped out with whatever classroom duties that needed doing during the day, then sometimes stayed late in the afternoons to tutor students who needed extra help. Then she'd go home, make dinner for herself, and then read for a while before going to bed. It was a safe routine, a comfortable, predictable lifestyle that Esme was loath give up. But every day, there was anxiety to reckon with.

The smallest things could trigger a moment of panic. She might see a man on the street that looked like Charles, or she'd hear a voice in a shop that reminded her of his, and she'd freeze for moment, suddenly unable to move or speak. It was never really Charles, and the instant of terror would pass as quickly as it had arrived, but he was the main reason that Esme was eager to leave Ashland. Columbus was close, much too close for her to ever be fully comfortable here, especially once the baby was born. It seemed to be more a matter of 'when' than 'if' he'd track her down. What if he found her while she was in the hospital? What if, as the father, he was able to take her child away against her will? Would she be able to escape him if he showed up in town? Was there anything she could do to protect herself, to say nothing of the baby due in just a few weeks?

Esme shook her head. She was staring out a window in the tiny house she'd rented, watching a new layer of snow pile up outside. It was nearly Christmas, and the weather had been growing steadily colder all month. Esme shivered slightly and moved to add more wood to the fire: no matter what the actual temperature was, thinking about Charles getting anywhere near her child always gave her chills.

As if able to feel her fear, the baby chose that moment to kick. Esme moved her chair closer to the fire and clutched her stomach with both hands.

"Don't be scared," she whispered. "We're okay. We'll be okay. I'll take care of us."

But could she? Esme felt like she was lying in promising her child something she couldn't really guarantee.

_If _he_ were here, we'd be safe,_ she thought suddenly. Then Esme sighed: it was wonderful to dream about _him_, but her memories of his kindness, his good looks, his…_perfection_ made it hard to return to reality. Wishing she was with him, her angel, always gave her a pang when she had to admit that she might never see him again. It had been so long ago…where was he now? Did he ever think of her? If she did happen to see him again, what would she even say to him?

Esme had so many questions, and virtually no satisfactory answers. Sitting in her drafty home beside the fire, rubbing her stomach as the baby began to move again, she tried to focus on her hopes for the new year: she wanted her baby to be healthy. She wanted to find a new place to live, a safer place, far away, and she wanted to find a better paying job, a job that would make her able to give her baby the best of everything.

_And I want to find_ him, a quiet voice inside her said. Esme usually allowed herself a few tears when she had this thought, since it seemed such an unattainable wish, but tonight, she dried her eyes and threw more wood on the fire. Of course she felt lonely now, but in a few weeks, she'd have her child with her. Even if they had to stay in Ashland, Esme told herself every day that the future was going to be better than the past; it had to be. And even if it was impossible, she wasn't going to stop dreaming of a future with _him_. Even if it turned out to be nothing more than a fantasy, she couldn't give up on Dr. Cullen. She never would.


	14. Obsession

Disclaimer: I don't own "Twilight," Stephenie Meyer does. Did I mention that there are ONLY 80 DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON?!?! Yup, I did. Awesome.

_1918_: Obsession

Carlisle's POV

Every day seemed a bit worse than the last as the flu epidemic raged throughout Chicago, and for the first time in decades, Carlisle was getting reckless. He knew he was working too many hours, coming in early, staying too long and thereby risking getting caught in the sunlight as he hurried home each morning, but the atmosphere throughout the city was so chaotic that he wondered if even venturing out in broad daylight would cause much of a stir. And as much as every hospital needed every available doctor, Carlisle realized just a few days into the worst of the epidemic that for the first time in centuries, he was inconspicuous. Even the impossible beauty of an immortal failed to attract humans as it usually did: those admitted to hospitals were preoccupied by their suffering, and the families that came with them were consumed by worry for their loved ones and fear that they would be next to fall prey to the disease.

It was painfully clear that there was little that could be done to fight the flu. Sometimes, it was possible to help, but more often than not, a doctor could only care for the sick as they slowly declined. It was something of a comfort, knowing that he could make the last hours of the humans he treated more bearable, but Carlisle still felt worn down after the first few weeks had passed. He pitied the humans suffering all around him—the patients of course, but also the doctors and nurses, who fell ill themselves with frightening regularity. There was so much death all around them, every day, and the same was true of every hospital, every neighborhood all over town, that Carlisle was amazed that humans could endure it. For his part, he hadn't seen death like this since the last century, and as he saw medicine improving every year, he'd begun to hope that epidemics of this magnitude were a thing of the past. But he'd been wrong, and it was horrible to watch this, knowing he himself was immune to the disease while being powerless to help the afflicted. Of course, he wasn't really powerless…but he couldn't consider that. At least, he tried not to consider it.

During the early weeks of that terrible summer, the only respite he had from the suffering that seemed to hang heavy in the air were thoughts of her. _Her_, who he tried not to think about by name anymore—it was too dangerous, and somehow it seemed to make his longing for her even more desperate if he put a name to her face. It was maddening, not knowing if she was dead or alive, if she was safe from the monster he saw every day.

In the first few years after he'd met her, not a day had passed when he hadn't thought of her, recalled her scent, her eyes, the way her face lit up when she'd smiled at him…but gradually, he'd forced himself to try and forget what was, even by the most self-serving interpretation of the situation, an unhealthy fixation: unhealthy for her more so than for him. He'd lived alone a long time, and he would do so for as long as he had to. He _would_ stay away from her, he _would_ let her lead her life in peace, without interference on his part. But the temptation was terrible, at first.

He'd left town the day after he'd met her, had moved far away, and every minute he'd been packing, travelling, establishing a new residence and a new identity far away, he'd been aching to go back. It would be so easy to find her, to tell her how he felt…and then what? She would die, or he would turn her, and Carlisle didn't know if he could live with the guilt of doing that. So he'd forced himself to wait. Years had passed, and he managed to stop thinking of her every day. But it was difficult, and sometimes he was surprised by sudden recollections of her, that girl he'd spent little more than an hour with, years ago. He might be reading, and her face would swim before his eyes. Coming home from the hospital at dawn, he might catch a glimpse of a woman with hair like hers, or with a similar build, and he would stop, suddenly as intent as a dog on point, and then he would have to shake himself and hurry home, unnerved as always by his reaction.

The truth of the matter was that Carlisle was afraid he was changing. He'd lived alone for so long, and he'd intended to go on that way until he could find a companion, but something had happened to him after meeting _her_. It wasn't enough to wait patiently anymore: he was desperate for company, and he guessed that was why he couldn't get the girl out of his head. What he was feeling, he decided, was dangerously close to madness, for why else would he be so preoccupied with her after all this time? Carlisle couldn't understand it, but his instincts told him that he had to stay away from her: it was the only way that she could have the life she deserved. But still, he couldn't help but think of her when he'd had a bad day: she was his sole indulgence, something he'd lately convinced himself he deserved. If he had to be alone, he could at least take comfort in the image of the beautiful phantom of _her_ he'd created.

He always imagined her safe, happy. He pictured her with children, but he could never bring himself to imagine her husband. What sort of man would he be? Of course, that wasn't really the question that troubled him. Carlisle knew himself well enough to admit that what he really wondered was what sort of man deserved a woman like Esme? And then he'd remember his attempts to efface her name from his thoughts.

The question of whether or not he would ever see her again also plagued him: would there ever come a point in her life when she would be safe from him, when he'd be able to trust himself to see her without being tempted to change her? He didn't think so. That knowledge disturbed him more than anything else: that as long as she lived, he was going to long for her, and after she died…what would happen when so many years passed that he would be forced to admit that she must be gone? A terrible loneliness filled him at the very thought, and immortality always seemed to stretch out before him like an endless punishment for having even dared to dream of her.

_I've lived alone too long,_ he told himself. _That's how this fixation was able to come about_. Of course that wasn't the whole truth—what he felt for that human girl he'd met so long ago went deeper than a superficial infatuation. But every time Carlisle's thoughts strayed to his memories of her that horrible summer, he was quick to pull himself back to the present. There was always work to be done, always someone that he had a chance of saving.

He was staring out a window, looking up at the night sky, the stars obscured by the city's lights, when a nurse told him that some new patients had arrived. Carlisle smiled at her absently and he heard the poor woman's heart rate speed up. The nurse's hair was like _hers_—not as beautiful, but a similar color anyway, enough to remind him of the tendrils of hair that had cascaded over her shoulders on that long ago afternoon. That instant of pleasure in the midst of so much pain was such a comfort, such a relief, that he was able to read the names of the incoming patients without as bad a pang as he usually felt when he thought of more victims succumbing to the flu.

_Edward Masen_, he read. _Elizabeth Masen, and Edward Masen, Junior._

With one last moment spared for his forbidden fantasy of meeting her again, Carlisle took a deep breath and went to examine the new patients.


	15. Privacy

Wow, wow, WOW! Thanks to everyone for so many great reviews, and sorry I'm so late updating this week—I just moved, and the wireless in my apartment isn't working yet. Also, I just started grad school (hooray!); but more to the point, new chapters! There are two today, and I've got another two that I hope to post sometime on Sunday or early Monday.

It took me a while to come up with the idea for this chapter—obviously Carlisle and Esme are the focus of this series, but I'm trying to give the rest of the Cullen family a turn witnessing the history of their parents, so here's a Rosalie story. (Note that the house I describe here is the kind of thing I imagine Esme designing before building/remodeling the Cullen house we encounter in "Twilight." It's totally different, book vs. movie, isn't it? But both houses seem pretty awesome…)

This one's short and (I hope) sweet. And though I made it a Rosalie story, it could really be from anyone's POV, since the whole family, save Edward, is present…oh well. Please review if you get the chance, and thanks again—see you Sunday! 

_1982_: Privacy

Rosalie's POV

After nearly three months in Europe, Rosalie stepped out of the car when Emmett opened her door and looked up at the new Cullen house.

"It's…big," Emmett said, impressed. Rosalie nodded, speechless. Esme had kept her latest design for a house that the whole family could share a secret (though obviously Alice knew anyway), and she and Carlisle had even gone so far as to ask their children to occupy themselves far away for a few months while the house in Maine was built. Rosalie had been a Cullen for almost fifty years, but the fact that money was really no object in projects like these could still be shocking at times. What had been an empty clearing in the forest a few weeks ago was now filled by a three story house,

Rosalie and Emmett were still staring at the outside of the house when Jasper and Alice pulled into the drive behind them.

"Wow," Jasper muttered.

"I told you it was amazing!" Alice said, obviously delighted to see what had just been a vision before come to life. Taking Rosalie's hand, Alice pulled her toward the house. "Come on, everyone has to see your rooms! Rose, you and I have closets the size of—"

Just then, Alice paused and smiled.

Rosalie raised her eyebrows. "What? Is your closet bigger than mine? What is it?"

"Never mind," Alice said briskly. "Let's go in."

Throwing open the door, Alice charged into the living room, Rosalie right behind her, just in time to see Carlisle and Esme on the nearest couch, their arms wrapped around each other as they kissed, break apart, startled.

"Oh!" Esme yelped. She'd been sitting in Carlisle's lap, but now she moved to sit beside him with what was impressive speed even for an immortal. "…hi."

"Sorry," Alice said cheerfully. "But I knew you didn't notice us pull up, and I thought if we didn't come in right now we might have to wait outside for a while."

Emmett snorted with laughter and Rosalie grinned as she felt him take her hand. "And I thought _we_ were the shameless ones," she muttered, which made Emmett laugh again.

"It's good to see you too, _all_ of you," Esme said, rolling her eyes and getting up to embrace each of her children in turn. Then she turned and looked back at Carlisle. "Wait until I'm out of the room before you tell anyone what we were just talking about, all right?"

Carlisle grinned. "Of course. Did all of you have a good trip back?"

"Fine, but maybe we're a little early," Emmett snickered.

"Edward's going to be late by the way," Alice said. "He's discovered a new bookstore in Augusta. So, do you want to show us our rooms?"

Esme glanced at Carlisle, who was still grinning at her, and gave him a look of amusement mixed with exasperation.

"Come on," she said to Alice, who was already skipping toward the stairs. "And you already know about your room, but I added a few last minute touches that you might appreciate."

"So what did she say?" Rosalie demanded as soon as they were up the stairs.

Carlisle chuckled. "She jinxed herself, I suppose. Your poor mother was saying, not five minutes ago, that in a house this big, all of us can look forward to plenty of privacy."

This time, everyone laughed when Emmett did. Watching him smile, Rosalie was eager to see just how much privacy their new bedroom would afford them.

* * *

Yikes, I meant it when I said it was short, huh? (And it was more just a cute family snapshot than a real Rosalie chapter…well, I'll try to do one of those sometime soon ).


	16. Style

Dang it, this story makes me wish I'd gotten to the beach this summer…no sexy vampires there though, so, never mind… For those of you interested in random history facts like this, the bikini actually debuted in France in 1946 (or so the Internet tells me). It didn't come to America until a little later, but it was considered very scandalous at the time (buying a new bathing suit was another thing I meant to do this summer…)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer (not I) is fully responsible for all the awesomeness that it "Twilight."

_2005_: Style

Bella's POV

It was almost the end of the summer when Edward asked if I wanted to go to the beach. When your boyfriend is a vampire, this comes across as a very odd question, but then he explained what he was talking about.

"Alice is planning a trip," he told me. "There's going to be a day just before school starts when a very deserted stretch of beach up near Canada's going to be free. It'll be a cloudy day—cloudy enough to keep ordinary tourists away—but Alice insists that it's going to be warm enough for you to swim, if you want to."

I thought about this. Edward's tone of voice was very cautious, and it was easy to guess why. On the one hand, he didn't want to sound exasperated with Alice's plan in case I actually wanted to go. On the other hand, he didn't want to sound excited in case I _didn't_ want to go. Sometimes I can tell what he really means when he says something like this, but this time, Edward's face was completely still. Great, this was going to be like interrogating a statue.

"Do you want to go?" I asked directly, careful to keep my voice neutral. Actually, I thought it sounded like fun, but Edward gets a little edgy about having me around other vampires, even his family. Under the circumstances, I guess I could understand his concern: if Alice was going, then Jasper probably was too, and Edward worries about Jasper.

"I am completely indifferent," he said calmly, his voice almost robotic, and I giggled in spite of myself, which made him smile.

"That was not a helpful response," I said.

"Do _you_ want to go?" he asked, being as blunt as I had been.

I considered for only a moment. "Yes," I said slowly, "if you think you'd have fun. I'm not a huge beach person, but I wouldn't mind going swimming."

Edward smiled. "It's sort of hard to picture you with a tan though," he said, smoothing my hair away from my face. Of course I was as pale as always—even late August in Forks is almost perpetually overcast.

I made a face. "You just said it was going to be cloudy."

"It will be," he said. "Will you still enjoy the beach without sun?"

It seemed overly dramatic to say, 'I'm happy anywhere as long as you're with me,' so I nodded. "So what day are we going?"

Never go to the beach with vampires—just don't do it. This isn't because of the safety issues that Edward reminds me (if he thinks I'm getting too complacent) are inherent to spending so much time with what are, admittedly, very strong, and potentially very dangerous creatures. No, I'm saying it's a bad idea because everyone has self-esteem issues, and going to the beach with people who are eternally young and beautiful isn't something that's going to make you feel good about yourself.For me, it sort of felt like I'd fallen into an ad for bathing suits. Emmett and Rosalie weren't there, so at least I didn't have to see both of Edward's sisters looking like supermodels, but seeing Alice and Esme was disheartening enough.

The beach we'd come to was really out in the middle of nowhere, but at least there were bathrooms and a place to change clothes. As soon as I came out of a changing room in my bathing suit—feeling a little awkward, since I was about to see Edward with less clothing than I'd ever seen him in before, and vice versa—Alice gave me a look. I knew that look. It's an expression that's as close as someone as cheerful as Alice gets to irritation.

"Honestly, Bella," she said, shaking her head. "I really thought I'd convinced you to wear a bikini."

I groaned. "Alice, I thought I'd convinced you that I was way too apathetic to buy a new bathing suit. This is the first time I've been swimming in years anyway."

"But you'd look so cute!" Alice insisted. "And did you know it's almost the sixtieth anniversary of the bikini?"

"Are you saying you're celebrating history?" I asked, laughing in spite of myself.

Alice grinned. "Well, this particular bathing suit isn't that old, but I did buy one just a few years after their invention. So did Rose, but it took us ages to talk Esme into getting one."

As if on cue, Esme came around the corner, and I was sort of surprised to see that she too was wearing a one piece. Alice didn't, but she gave Esme the same sort of exasperated look she'd given me.

"You're both impossible," Alice said, sighing dramatically. "All right, fine. I'm going to see if Jasper wants to have a quick race to British Columbia."

Esme shook her head and smiled as Alice dashed away over the sand. "Was she lecturing you about clothing again?"

"I think Alice has a hard time accepting how fashion-challenged I am," I said, watching her join Jasper in the surf. I could see Edward and Carlisle setting up folding chairs a few yards away.

"Well, I'm afraid that I often disappoint her too," Esme said, laughing. "It _did_ take quite a while for Rose and Alice to convince me to buy a bikini, and even after I did, I never wore it very often. By the time they got really skimpy, I was back to one-pieces anyway."

I glanced at Esme, who, by no stretch of the imagination, is perfect-looking. It was weird to think of a vampire as being shy, but I realized suddenly that where Alice and Rose were often rather extravagant with their clothes, I'd never seen Esme wear anything that couldn't be described as modest.

"I guess—you just have different taste than they do," I said, hoping it didn't sound like a question.

Esme laughed again. "That's one way of putting it. I guess I think of it as being more a matter of my personality being a bit different than theirs. I'm just not as outgoing when it comes to clothes. Honestly, my mother and I weren't exactly close, but it took me decades to get over the idea that she was rolling over in her grave every time I stepped outside in a skirt that was too short."

I laughed, though I was sort of surprised—it was always strange to hear one of the Cullens talk about people and things connected to their human lives. "So, even after all these years, Alice still sort of wishes you dressed more…well, differently?"

"Alice wants everyone to look their best," Esme said thoughtfully. "Of course, she has her own ideas of what constitutes 'best.' Anyway, she's mostly come to terms with the fact that both her parents are rather old-fashioned." Esme's smile widened. "The bikini…well, it was 1955 before I finally tried one, and if his heart had still been beating, I think that would have stopped Carlisle's."

That really made me laugh. "Okay, maybe next time, I'll wear a two-piece." It was funny just to picture Edward's look of shock, not that I'd have the nerve to wear anything really tiny.

Esme winked. "The stunned expression is worth the price of a bathing suit," she promised.

I watched as Esme, who'd been walking ahead of me, stopped and leaned on the arm of Carlisle's folding chair. He smiled up at her—okay, so it was obvious that he'd be madly in love with her no matter what she wore—and then they followed Alice and Jasper's lead and ran down to the water. Maybe they'd swim to Canada too. Taking a deep breath, I turned to meet Edward's eyes—he'd already been staring at me for several seconds, and…wow, his smile when I was just wearing my old one piece was enough to make me think that I really didn't need to let Alice take me shopping.

"You look…wow," he said simply. I was going to laugh, but I was sort of staring at him too.

"Wow is good," I said. "Um…the feeling's mutual."

Edward leaned down until his mouth was less than an inch from mine. "Would you like to swim now?" he whispered.

"Later," I breathed. And then, for a while I was glad that everyone had disappeared into the water.


	17. Wish

Happy Monday everyone, or perhaps 'Happy Almost-Tuesday' would be better. Only sixty-six days until "New Moon," and tomorrow the "New Moon" paperback with the awesome movie cover is released! So, I'm excited for Tuesday.

This first chapter concerns an idea of considerable cuteness that I've been contemplating for a while now—as a character, we don't really get to know Nessie very well in "Breaking Dawn," what with the fact that she's only an infant, albeit a very intelligent one. (_Please_ Stephenie Meyer, can we someday get a book that explores Nessie as a character? Pretty please?) So this is how I imagine Nessie might relate to her grandparents, since on the one hand she's very grown up, but on the other hand, she's still a (really smart half-vampire) kid. Hope you enjoy and have a great week!

_2007_: Wish

Nessie's POV

"Grandma," Nessie called, looking up from her book. "Can I ask you something?"

"You certainly _can_," Esme said, emerging from the kitchen and drying her hands on a towel. Nessie could smell that she was cooking something, doubtless for Jacob and Seth when they came over later. It was a rare afternoon when, at least until grandpa came home, there was just the two of them alone in the house.

Nessie rolled her eyes. "_May_ I ask you something?"

"Absolutely," Esme said, sitting down and kissing Nessie on the top of her head. "What are you reading?"

"Fairy tales," Nessie said grimly. "So far they're very strange. They seem to be either very macabre or very sentimental. And all the humans seem to be unhappy at first, but then they make a wish, it comes true, and then they're happy forever, the end. Real humans aren't like this, are they?"

"Not really," Esme said thoughtfully. "I always thought that the phrase 'and they lived happily ever after' was an odd way to end a story, because usually getting something you want is just the beginning of a new story. With humans, and immortals too, I think getting one thing you want just leads to your wanting something else."

"Did you know that Buddhists believe that to be truly happy, we have to free ourselves from desire?" Nessie asked.

"I've heard that before," Esme said, nodding. "It's certainly an interesting idea."

"Grandma," Nessie said seriously, "I wanted to ask you if there was something you really wanted when you were human. Did you have a wish like the humans in these stories do, and did it come true?"

"I did," Esme said, smiling fondly. "My wish was to marry your grandfather and have children with him. And then he found me, and changed me, and I got my wish." Esme hugged Nessie gently. "And in spite of what I just said about the endings of fairy tales, I really have been living happily ever after ever since."

"So have I," Carlisle said quietly.

Nessie and Esme both turned toward the door. "Hi, grandpa!" Nessie called.

"Hello, sweetheart," he said, kissing her on the cheek before kissing Esme. For a split second, Nessie thought she saw a strange expression on both their faces, as if they were happy and sad at the same time. Nessie knew that there were many things that her family wasn't quite ready to explain to her yet—it was because she was too young, or rather that she looked so young that it was hard to treat her as someone with a mind far older than her body. Still, Nessie knew without having to be told that immortality was something her mother alone had chosen; for everyone else, it had been something that had been decided for them, and all of the Cullens had misgivings about what they'd lost with their mortality. In moments like these, Nessie understood what her role was: until she got a little older, she would pretend she hadn't noticed her grandparents' pain. Instead, she would smile and say: 

"Grandma and I were just talking about wishes. Since you got yours, maybe my wish will come true too. But you're right about people always wanting things. Tomorrow I'll probably just want something different than I do today."

"Well, what's your wish today?" Esme asked, her voice and expression cheerful again.

This was something that made Nessie a little sad, but she smiled when she said, "I'd like to go to school. I mean, I know I can't really, but I'd like to see what it's like."

"Well, I think grandma can help with that," Carlisle said, sitting down on Nessie's other side and putting his arm around hers and Esme's shoulders. "She used to be a teacher. At least, that used to be her job. I guess she's never really stopped being a teacher."

Nessie grinned. "_May_ I ask you to be my teacher today, grandma?"

"I'd be happy to teach you something," Esme said, smiling. "Should our classroom be right here? I can move the chairs and the couch and—"

"Yes, and we can make it look like a real school!" Nessie cried, hopping off the couch and tugging on Carlisle's hand. "We'll be right back."

"Where are we going?" Carlisle asked when they got to the top of the stairs.

"Your office," Nessie explained. "If we're going to have school, then we need to borrow your desk."

Carlisle nodded. "You're absolutely right."

A few moments later, Nessie watched as Carlisle effortlessly moved his heavy desk down the stairs and into the living room, where Esme already had a dining room chair and a small table set up. Esme sat down behind Carlisle's desk, and Nessie saw with amusement that she'd also changed clothes.

"What?" Esme asked, noticing her expression. "This is what teachers were supposed to dress like when I was a teacher."

Esme was wearing a long skirt that nearly touched the floor, and her buttoned shirt was fastened all the way up to the top of her high collar. She was even wearing glasses.

"Glasses?" Nessie wondered.

"I needed glasses to read when I was human," Esme explained.

"Okay, but we need another chair," Nessie said firmly.

Now it was Esme's turn to look puzzled. "We do?"

"Schools have lots of kids in them," Nessie explained before dashing into the dining room to get a second chair. "But since I'm the only kid, grandpa has to be a student too."

"Okay," Carlisle said, taking the chair Nessie brought him and sitting with her at the table serving as a school desk. "Should we be taking notes?"

"No, I think this should be elementary school," Nessie said firmly. "You won't need to write unless grandma gives us a test."

"So," Esme said, looking at Nessie. "What am I going to teach you today?"

"Grandma, _you're_ the teacher," Nessie said patiently. "You have to decide."

"All right," Esme said, laughing. "Well then, let's start with math."

Nessie watched while Esme wrote down math problems and how they were supposed to be solved on a large sketchbook that was serving as their blackboard. It was very strange to watch, because Nessie could remember very clearly when she hadn't been able to understand numbers or what they were for. But now it seemed simple, easy to put them together. She glanced at Carlisle, who was watching her, and smiled; she could remember before she'd been able to talk how he'd measured her every day to see how much she'd grown, and how completely uninterested she'd been in that activity. But now that she knew more about humans, about living things in general really, she'd begun to understand his fascination.

Nessie too was interested in how fast she was growing now, and it was strange to think that humans couldn't remember the things she could, like being a baby, and the moment she first spoke, first read a word on her own. She could remember everything, and Nessie was grateful for that. But sometimes when she looked at her family, she wondered if every immortal felt the same about their flawless memories.

"Hey," Carlisle whispered, nudging her gently. "Mrs. Cullen's asking you something."

Nessie blinked. "I'm sorry, what was the question?"

Esme smiled. "Is it time for recess?"

"Yes," Nessie said. "I mean, if you think so, Mrs. Cullen."

"I _do_ think it's time for a break," Esme said. "We could call it lunchtime and go hunting."

"Sounds good," Carlisle said. "Nessie?"

"Okay," Nessie said, jumping out of her seat. It was strange, knowing that she could never be an ordinary child, but still feeling that she would enjoy the years of childhood she had, and knowing that her family would enjoy them too. "Let's go!"


	18. Envy

Hi again—I've wanted to do a chapter with the Denali clan for a while now, and I don't really know why it's taken me this long, but here it is at last in any case. I'll try to update again on Sunday, so see you then!

_1921_: Envy

Edward's POV

Even if he hadn't been able to hear the nervous tangle of her thoughts, Edward felt sure that Esme's anxiety would have been obvious to him. Carlisle certainly recognized it, and though it frustrated him to no end, he kept forcing himself to resist the urge to take her hand and comfort her. For one thing, Edward could see that Carlisle wondered if he touched Esme's hand how long it would take him to let go. But Carlisle also worried that she'd be offended, a thought which made Edward roll his eyes.

_I saw that_, Carlisle thought, looking through the rearview mirror of the car to meet his son's eyes. _I know, you've told me again and again that we no longer live in an age where women are offended by such things, but I'm afraid that I have yet to convince myself not to worry about decorum…at least where Esme's concerned._

The three of them had been driving for some time; they'd finally reached the Alaska border a few hours before, and soon they'd be in Denali meeting the coven of the same name. Edward had met the Denali clan before, but Esme never had, and she was uneasy about the meeting to come—or rather, while she was excited to meet new vampires, she wasn't completely comfortable with the fact that several of the Denali clan were women, women who'd known Carlisle far longer than she had. Women he spoke of as friends, or cousins, but still, Esme wondered and worried…

"Are we close?" Esme asked, hoping that she hadn't asked this in a while, and also wishing that her voice sounded more relaxed.

"Nearly there now," Edward said, giving Esme a reassuring smile. _Just tell him already,_ he thought, wishing as he often had lately that one or both of his parents might momentarily be gifted with his tiresome talent.

"They're going to love meeting you," Carlisle said, looking at her, and while that statement reassured Esme, it didn't exactly relax her. Edward fought the urge to roll his eyes again. _So close, he even got the words 'love' and 'you' into the same sentence…_

"Is that it?" Esme said, startled at the sudden appearance of a clearing after hours of driving through dark forest.

"That's it," Edward said, raising his eyebrows at the house ahead of them. "It's…bigger than the last time we visited."  
"Eleazar and Tanya are both interested in getting cars," Carlisle explained. "That's why they asked us to drive this up so they could get a good look at the new Ford. Whether they like this car or not, they've put up a garage in preparation for buying something to drive, though I can't say as it's much fun driving on ice."

"And running's so much faster," Esme said, shaking her head fondly at Carlisle. "I honestly can't understand the fascination with these things."

"Someday, we'll teach you to drive," Edward promised. "Then you'll see."

Suddenly, Edward saw all thoughts of cars vanish from his mother's mind. Esme sat up straighter and swallowed hard the instant she caught a glimpse of the group standing outside the house waiting for them. Edward listened as she thought about straightening her hair, grabbing Carlisle's hand for reassurance, or just running back to Canada all in the same second, but then she smiled and got out of the car when Carlisle came around to the passenger side to open her door.

"Carlisle, it's been too long," Tanya called. "And Edward, how _wonderful_ to see you."

"Thank you for inviting us Tanya, Eleazar," Carlisle said, greeting all the others in turn while Edward tried unsuccessfully to avoid a hug from Tanya, whose thoughts, he felt, might have made even the most hardened libertine blush.

Irina followed her sister's example and embraced Carlisle briefly, and though his neutral reaction to this came as a relief to Esme, Edward was still surprised to hear his usually gentle mother issue what amounted to a mental snarl. She was prepared to be polite to Irina, even friendly, since she was a friend of Carlisle's, but because she'd gone so far as to _hug_ Carlisle, Esme was suddenly consumed by a flash of jealously so intense that Edward could swear it made his head ache.

"And you must be Esme," Carman said warmly. "It's so good to finally meet you."

"I'm glad to meet you too," Esme said, smiling and shaking hands with Eleazar's wife. Tanya too took Esme's hand, but when Esme and Irina faced each other, for a split second, neither said anything.

"Nice to meet you," they said in unison, and though they were both smiling pleasantly, Edward heard, to his amazement, that each wanted nothing more than to crush the other's hand. Esme, as a newborn, actually caused the much older Irina a moment of discomfort, and then they let their hands part before the group proceeded into the house. Edward trailed behind, in part to keep his distance from Tanya, but also because he'd had a thought.

He'd suddenly remembered something his mother had told him once. "When a man hates someone, he can barely keep it off his face," she'd said. "But a woman can smile so convincingly at her enemies that you'd think they were the best of friends." _She's really jealous_, Edward thought wonderingly. It continued to surprise him, the degree to which both his parents were in denial about the subtle hints the other dropped, the lengths each went to convince themselves that the other considered them only a dear friend. It would have been funny, Edward decided, if it wasn't rather sad: Esme was convinced that Carlisle didn't love her, not in the way she loved him anyway, but as soon as another woman showed even a slight interest in him, she was ready to attack, her mind consumed by all the chaos and violence of a typical newborn.

_I wonder how long it's going to take the others to notice there's something going on between them_, Edward thought with a smile. Almost immediately, he was rewarded with a glance from Carman, who simply raised her eyebrows.

_Are they engaged, Edward?_ she wondered.

Edward shook his head slightly and tried not to grin. This was going to be an interesting visit.

Later, when Edward stopped in the library to examine the books that the Denali clan had collected over several centuries, he found Eleazar already there, deep in thought. Tanya and Carman were showing Esme the rest of the house, while Kate, who was also interested in cars, was asking Carlisle about the Ford. Irina had apparently gone hunting, and Edward could hear, though she was on the other side of the house, that Esme was happy about that.

Edward pretended to examine the books in front of him while still thinking about the varied interpretations the members of the Denali clan had fashioned to explain Carlisle and Esme's odd behavior toward each other. They were friendly, but almost excessively polite, which made Tanya wonder if they liked each other, a suspicion she had yet to share with Irina, who hated Esme virtually on sight. That had surprised Edward almost as much as Esme's jealously; Irina liked Carlisle, but Edward hadn't realized she was infatuated with him too. Then again, her thoughts weren't always as clear as Tanya's, though it wasn't hard to be more subtle than Tanya.

Carman, for her part, simply liked Esme, and she was fairly certain that though they weren't engaged now, they were certainly going to get married eventually. Kate agreed, but like Tanya, she had enough sense not to say so to Irina. And Eleazar…Edward had wondered about his opinion of the odd spectacle that was his parents' relationship. So he'd come to the library to explore, half-hoping he'd hear something while also feeling unpleasantly like a voyeur. Of course, Eleazar was only reading, he was only thinking about the book in front of him…

_Edward, _Eleazar thought suddenly. Edward turned and tried not to look too interested in the older vampire's expression.

_It's very respectful of you to try and give Carlisle and Esme their privacy, and maybe I'm wrong to assume that there's something more between them than what they let on, but all this secrecy can't really be what they want. Wouldn't it be better if…they were more open about their relationship?_

Somehow, Edward managed not to laugh. Eleazar was certainly perceptive, and the conclusion he'd come to—that Carlisle and Esme were conducting a secret affair—wasn't really any stranger than the truth, but it was still hard for Edward to imagine his parents doing such a thing. For starters, both of them were too inherently honest, and then there was the fact that had either known the other loved them, keeping silent would have been the last thing they'd do.

"They're not being secretive," Edward said very quietly—he could hear Esme and the others on the staircase above them. "Carlisle doesn't know how she feels about him, and Esme doesn't know how he feels about her either. _That's_ the problem here."

Eleazar looked amazed._ They—they don't know?_ he wondered.

"No," Edward said, smiling grimly. "That anyone could be so obtuse _is_ rather shocking, but it's true. And as transparent as it is to everyone but the two people concerned, I'm trying not to say anything to either of them that's too obviously a hint."

Eleazar's mind was nearly blank for a few seconds, and then he shook his head. _Well, it really is kind of you to keep both their secrets,_ he thought at last, _but honestly, I think that if one or the other of them doesn't do something soon, it would be good of you to put them out of their misery._

Edward grinned as he left the library, an interesting-looking book in hand—the look on Esme's face when Irina first greeted Carlisle made him doubt that he would have to wait much longer for the truth to come out. "I'll keep that in mind," he promised, before telling Eleazar goodnight.


	19. Game

Whoa! Let me just take a moment to thank everyone for all their great reviews! THANK YOU! (All caps mean I was extra excited by all the reviews I got). Happy Monday, though I'm really trying to get back into the habit of updating every Sunday night—last night the Internet wasn't working though, so I'm a bit late, sorry… Also, since someone requested it, I might continue the story in chapter eighteen ("Envy") at some point—maybe. We'll see, I'll have to think about what I'd like to have happen next, which would certainly be fun…

This first chapter is about the very first game of vampire baseball! (Having one person bat twice was the only way I could think that having two person teams would work—and even in the beginning, I imagine Esme would have had to be the umpire ). Hope you enjoy, and I'll see you next week. ONLY SIXTY DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON!!! Wait, I forgot it's Monday now! ONLY FIFTY NINE DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON!!!

_1942_: Game

Emmett's POV

"A coin toss is probably the best way to decide," Edward said.

"Why can't we just pick our own teams?" Rosalie snapped, glancing at Emmett, who grinned. He'd prefer to be on a team with Rose too, but if they were all going to do something as a family, it might help if they actually interacted with other members of the family instead of just each other for a change.

"Here, a quarter each," Carlisle said, handing out coins. It took a split second for everyone to toss a quarter and catch it. "Heads.

"Tails," Edward said.

"Tails," Emmett said,"

"Heads," Rosalie muttered, her voice very nearly a snarl.

Carlisle opened his mouth, probably to suggest that best two out of three flips decide, since Edward interrupted him. "Fine, you guys bat first. I'll pitch."

"Like hell you will," Emmett said, hitting his brother lightly on the arm. "Come on, you field. You're the faster one."

"Emmett," Rosalie growled. "I don't—"

"Decide who bats first," Edward said, pulling Emmett toward the mound before Rosalie could really let her irritation show. Normally, Emmett would have taken her side, but he tended to agree with Edward in this case: Carlisle was family, and though her antipathy toward him had cooled a lot of late, she needed to quit avoiding him eventually, and now was as good a time as any to start doing so.

"Come on, you'll have fun." Emmett said, smiling encouragingly.

Rosalie rolled her eyes but went to join Carlisle by home plate without further comment.

Edward shook his head. "Let's see how long this lasts."

"She said she'd try," Emmett said. "Rose can go a couple innings without getting pissed."

"Carlisle's a lot more patient than I am," Edward muttered. "If I were him, I would have gotten fed up with her ignoring me long ago. But he never wants to push her into anything, especially not going to the great trouble of speaking to him."

Emmett shrugged, looking back at his wife appreciatively, thinking how she looked, dressed for baseball, her hair down and her shirt rather tight…

Edward winced. "Emmett, jeez, I can hear you, remember?"

"Sorry," Emmett said, chuckling. "Let's get started before she changes her mind."

Emmett's first pitch, though very gentle by his estimation, made Esme, who was catching, raise her eyebrows.

"We've only got three bats with us, all right?" she said, smiling at the ridiculous strength of her youngest child.

Emmett grinned. "Come on, that was a strike!"

"Ball," Esme said, shaking her head.

"Aim for the bat, not my face please," Carlisle said, chuckling and returning to the plate. He hit the next pitch, and even made it to second before Edward could pick up the ball, which had sailed into a grassy clearing several hundred yards away.

Rosalie was smiling when she came up to bat. "Don't go easy on me," she said darkly.

Emmett laughed. "Hey, I'm playing to win. Just don't complain when I strike you out."

Rosalie rolled her eyes, but she really did miss the first two pitches. Then Emmett threw for a third time, and rather than landing in Esme's hand, Rosalie struck the ball hard enough to break the bat. Edward went racing into the trees, following the ball's trajectory, but Carlisle and Rosalie had both rounded home plate by the time he tossed the ball back to Emmett.

"Two to zero," Esme called. Carlisle came up to bat again, and this time Edward caught the ball before he could even get to first, ending the first half of the inning.

"I'll pitch," Rosalie announced, and Emmett was happy to hear her sounding positively cheerful. She looked at Carlisle when she spoke too, and she wasn't even glaring at him as she often did. Okay, Esme had been right to suggest this—baseball _was_ a good family activity.

"Sounds good," Carlisle said, looking as pleased as Emmett felt by her good mood. When Emmett came to stand beside Esme while Edward batted, she smiled at him, plainly relieved at how things were going so far.

The next few innings passed quickly. Edward scored in the second, and then no one did again until the fifth, when Carlisle and Emmett both hit home runs. Rosalie scored again in the seventh, and then Emmett and Edward did in the eighth, so by the ninth, the score was tied four to four.

"It's tough having to be careful not to break the bat," Rosalie muttered, tossing the one remaining bat to Emmett after the first half of the inning—he'd smashed bat number two back in the seventh. Rosalie and Carlisle had both scored another run, so now it was just a matter of their getting three runs if Emmett and Edward were going to win. Emmett smiled; he wanted Rose and Carlisle to win, since, at the moment, there seemed to be no friction between them for a change. But he knew his wife well enough to realize that if he and Edward threw the game, she'd know and she'd be pissed. Besides, Emmett was just as competitive as Rosalie, and he wanted to win.

But in the end, Carlisle was faster than Emmett, who hit a fly ball toward third base when Edward was on first. Emmett had already struck out once, and when Carlisle caught the ball he'd hit before Emmett could get to first, he immediately threw to Rosalie, who'd dashed to third to catch Edward. Esme, who'd left home plate to shadow the runners, declared Edward out when Rosalie tagged him at third base.

"Good game," Carlisle said magnanimously. Rosalie, of course, was somewhat less polite, in the sense that she made a face at Edward and Emmett too, who grabbed her and kissed her before she could start bragging.

"Hey, losing team collects the bases," Rosalie declared, pointing toward second and third.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Fine, but maybe the winning team should be in charge of replacing the broken bats."

"No, I think that's your job too," Rosalie said cheerfully.

"Next time, we bring six bats, minimum!" Emmett called as he jogged toward second, since Edward was already dashing to first. Glancing back at Rosalie, it was hard not to be a little amazed at how she'd changed in just the time he'd known her. When he'd met Rose, she'd been bitter, closed, and angry. Angry at Carlisle especially.

Emmett could sympathize with the way his wife felt about being made immortal, given what had happened before Carlisle found her. It was a horrible way to leave one life and begin another, and if she hadn't killed the men who'd killed her, he would have done so himself as soon as he'd heard what had happened to her. But Emmett had never been able to relate to her anger at Carlisle very well. After all, his death had been very different from hers.

He remembered the bear rushing at him, remembered the blood, and then something else, Rosalie as it had turned out, had picked him up and carried him away. Then the pain of the change had started, and when it had stopped, Emmett had opened his eyes to find Rosalie holding his hand and Carlisle ready to explain about the whole vampire thing, which, to Emmett, didn't seem like a bad deal at all. He'd been as good as dead, and then a beautiful girl had saved him? The same beautiful girl holding his hand and looking at him like…whoa. No, Emmett had never had a problem with Carlisle changing him. There were moments when he missed his human family, missed the taste of food, missed going out in the sun without fear of detection, but he'd never hated his adopted father.

Today, Emmett was surprised to see that Rosalie didn't seem to either. Maybe she was just happy they'd won, maybe it was just easier for her to tolerate him now that she and Emmett had a house of their own to go back to, but whatever the reason, Rosalie was actually smiling at Carlisle, who had his arm around Esme as they stood waiting for Edward and Emmett beside the broken bat shards.

"Next time, we'll bury them," Emmett said confidently, clapping Edward on the back as they headed toward home plate.

Edward smiled. "You're right, but I'm glad they got us this time."

"Me too," Emmett agreed, smiling at his wife and his parents. Before he'd met them, he'd never imagined a family like the Cullens, or a couple like Carlisle and Esme. They were so patient, so kind; it was thanks to them he had a home now, a place he could share with Rose, and a family too.

Emmett always smiled when he saw Esme looking at Carlisle the way she was looking up at him now, so happily, proudly even, because it reminded him, every time, that he was lucky enough to have Rose look at him the same way. Then Rosalie turned and smiled at him, and Emmett grinned back. Score be damned, he was a winner today, and every other day too. He had more than he ever could have hoped for, and in a way, Emmett thought, that was what being a Cullen meant: winning when you had, by mortal standards, lost.


	20. Sorrow

Hi again. This chapter is a look at Esme's attempts to deal with the death of her son, or rather, how she continues to grieve for him every year on the anniversary of his death, and how Carlisle feels, watching her. As always, reviews are much appreciated; for next week, I've got a story about Isle Esme, so that should be fun.  Thanks again for reading and have a good week!

_1996_: Sorrow

Carlisle's POV

It was a cool day for what you could almost call spring, and though the overcast sky threatened snow, Alice was fairly certain it would be a dry day. She and the others had gone to school, and Carlisle had taken the day off to stay home with Esme. After all, it was an anniversary she always marked—not their anniversary, but _his_. Her son's.

The first year had been the worst, and at the time, Carlisle hadn't been sure he could ever forgive himself for not thinking of what day it was, or for not imagining how she might react. He'd changed Esme just a few days after the death of her son, and when the agony of the change had passed, there was another sort of pain there to take its place. Mercifully, as a newborn, Esme had largely been able to distance herself from her grief, at least on the surface. Carlisle had watched as she'd tried to convince herself, as he had once, that her mortal life was over, and that it was time to move on. And she was, for the most part, successful: the fact that her life as a vampire was far happier than her life as a human had been aside, Esme was a naturally sunny person, and she was happy with her newfound family. But then, just before her first year as an immortal was over, the anniversary had arrived.

Carlisle had arrived home from work that morning to find Edward looking frantically for Esme. He'd left his room to borrow a book from her, only to discover her room empty, so together they'd searched for her, following her scent as quickly as they could before the trail could run cold. It was almost dark by the time they found her, and when they did, Edward quietly melted back into the forest and let Carlisle go speak to her alone.

She was sitting at the edge of the cliff she'd jumped from the year before, her arms wrapped around her legs, her eyes unfocused, staring out into the distance without really seeing anything.

"Esme?" he'd whispered. When she'd looked at him then, Carlisle had had to suppress a shudder. She wasn't crying, but her face was contorted in anguish, and in that moment, he would have done anything to change her expression. He'd realized, with only a trace of surprise at the thought, that he would have changed her son if he could have; if he'd been there, he would have broken the law and made an immortal child, would have very likely brought death down upon them all, just as long as it would have saved her from ever having to feel what she did the moment he died, and every moment after when she remembered.

"I'm never going to see him again," she'd said simply. And then, hating himself for what he felt was his role in her pain, he'd embraced her, and then she'd started to cry, sobbing against his chest until well after the moon had risen. Then they'd gone home, and the next day, Esme was subdued but otherwise herself. It wasn't that she pretended nothing had happened so much as she was ready to go on again, to leave a little more of her grief behind and live her life as an immortal without regrets or sadness, at least until another year without her son had passed.

After that, Carlisle was always mindful of that fateful date, though Esme's grief never materialized the same way again. She never went back to the cliff, never again evinced any desire to return, though after a few decades, she could talk about her son, his death, and the place she'd very nearly died without pain, her tone genuinely matter-of-fact. But it was different on the day of his death; on that day, she was always very quiet, and the first few years, she told both Carlisle and Edward that she wanted to be alone.

At first, Carlisle had complied with this request for privacy, but eventually he did what Edward muttered was almost unheard of; he ignored what Esme said and stayed home with her. The first time he did it, they'd been married just a few years, and ever since, they'd stayed home together every year. It was strange, because in the beginning his presence hadn't made either of them happier; but he'd seen, to his relief, that Esme seemed less miserable, and for his part, he was certainly less pained than he'd been in years past. He hated to see her grieving, hated watching her admittedly silent unhappiness, but he'd hated thinking of her alone with her pain even more. So he stayed with her as she watched the day pass.

They spoke very little on these days. They would sit together, go hunting, or he'd help her with whatever home improvement project she was currently undertaking. But Carlisle always wondered what she was thinking. He hated to push her, hated to intrude on what was a private wound that time was slowly healing, but he always thought of how if her son had lived, she wouldn't have jumped, and he might have never found her again. Or he might have found her again, alive and happy, and then what would have happened? He couldn't have changed her then, he wouldn't have…so how did he really feel about the death of Esme's son?

He was sorry of course, for her pain and for the loss of the little boy she'd named after him, but he couldn't help but acknowledge that it had been the catalyst for her attempted suicide, the event that had facilitated his selfishness in changing her. He'd seen her, he'd wanted her, and he'd changed her: it had been that simple, but to have done it so thoughtlessly, when she'd been heartbroken by her loss... Carlisle couldn't help but wince when he thought of the way he'd done what he'd done, what he might have taken from her. If there really was an afterlife for their kind, then maybe she'd see her son again. But Carlisle knew himself well enough to admit that he never wanted to lose her, that not even eternity with her would be enough. That, he worried, was the magnitude of his avarice as far as Esme concerned. He could never give her up, not even to her son, but he couldn't help but wonder: _does she ever wish I'd let her go?_ Then, one year, he finally had his answer,

"I don't blame you, you know," she'd said simply. That statement had caught him off guard, despite the turn his thoughts always took on this, their other, far sadder anniversary. They'd been sitting on the porch of their new house, watching the sunset, and suddenly she'd turned to him and taken his face in her hands, running her fingers through his hair and down to his chin.

"This is a bad day for you too," she'd whispered. "You think I wanted to die."

"Not exactly," he'd managed. "You—you wanted to be with him—"

"And I wanted the pain to go away," she explained. "That's why I jumped. But you know that not a day, even _today_, ever goes by when I'm not glad you found me, don't you?"

He'd felt immeasurably better after that. "I do, because I feel the same."

They'd sat in silence for a few minutes, but then Carlisle had told Esme something he'd always thought but had never dared mention before.

"You know, I'll always be sorry I never got to meet him."

Esme's voice shook, but she'd smiled when she spoke, for a moment recalling the joy that had preceded her sorrow. "So will I. You would have loved him."

It was easier after that. Now, seventy-five years after the day her son had died, Carlisle sat in the kitchen and watched Esme chat happily about her life as a human while she hung a new set of curtains. For both of them, this had become a day to reminisce, to look back on their families, their friends, their mortality fondly. All the things she'd lost were so far gone that Esme was able to remember her human life with a smile, and so could Carlisle. This year, like so many years before it, grief was something that didn't need to be all consuming; they could bear it, and even enjoy a day like this, just as long as they were together.


	21. Lesson

Wow, yikes, sorry about just disappearing for a week like that—at the end of last week, my computer was stricken, quite abruptly, with a virus, so even though (like me) you've heard this a million times, KEEP YOUR VIRUS SOFTWARE UPDATED! Seriously, I've been in a foul mood all week without my laptop, since about 90% of my homework involves a computer, and I really don't appreciate having to wait for freshman to finish checking Facebook at the library when I'm waiting to print something for a class. Jeez.

Anyway, here at last are the chapters that I meant to post last week, and in a couple days, I'll try to post a couple more I'm almost finished with. Thank you for being such patient and otherwise excellent people, and thank you all for the fantastic reviews I received for the last two chapters. Have a good week, and ONLY 46 DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON!

Disclaimer: I do not own "Twilight." Stephenie Meyer does. You already knew that, but it needed to be said.

_1921_: Lesson

Esme's POV

The idea had occurred to her while they were in Canada on their honeymoon: the lake they'd stayed near had been frozen solid, but one day, while hunting, Esme decided that she'd like to learn to swim. As a girl, she'd gone wading in a creek with her friends in the summertime, but her mother had forbidden Esme to so much as step out past where the water reached her knees. Swimming was, her mother had declared, ridiculous and unladylike on top of being dangerous. But now her disapproval seemed very far away, and Esme wanted to try it, now that there was, without question, no danger or even possibility of her drowning. She'd never forgotten Carlisle's story of swimming to France when he'd first left England all those years ago, and the very thought of going swimming with her husband made her smile.

They'd been married just a few months, and Esme was still slightly amazed every day by how much they enjoyed each other. It made Esme happier than she could say that, besides being passionately in love, she and Carlisle had such a close friendship. She'd never imagined knowing someone she could speak to so openly, who looked forward to seeing her every day when he got home, who was delighted to do things together. Still, Esme was pleasantly surprised by his enthusiasm regarding her swimming scheme.

"You don't think it's unladylike?" she said playfully.

He chuckled, one arm around her waist and the other shifting her hair slightly to trail a kiss along her neck.

"I think you're very graceful," he said simply, "and that swimming isn't going to be the exception to that rule."

Esme grinned and embraced him. "I think, as much fun as it's going to be, that we should go by ourselves the first time."

Carlisle chuckled. "My thoughts exactly."

As Esme had expected, Edward encouraged them to attempt her first swimming lesson while he was at school. It was trying enough for him, having to block their thoughts under normal circumstances, but doing anything that involved minimal clothing was the limit of even Edward's considerable patience.

"Have a good day," Esme told him as he stepped outside with his books. _Have we been a bit less insufferable lately, son?_

Edward rolled his eyes. "Every little bit helps. I know you've both been making an effort to control your thoughts, and I appreciate it. Though this morning, I'm hearing more than I care to about how _someone_ looks with his shirt off."

Esme winced, but embarrassment was still exceeded by anticipation. _Right, sorry._

Edward smiled sympathetically. "It's not like you intend for me to hear. Maybe I'll stop by the library after school so I get home a little later than usual."

"If you're back by five, we can all go hunting before Carlisle has to work," Esme said. She knew that it made the most sense for Carlisle to work the night shift, given the scarcity of human doctors able to endure such hours, but it still bothered her that her husband and son sometimes only saw each other for an hour or two each day.

Edward smiled thinly at that thought. "Mom, don't worry. I'll see you tonight."

Esme watched him go, waving once even though he wasn't looking. It wasn't something that she or Carlisle liked to talk about, but they both worried at times that Edward was avoiding them, Carlisle especially. Edward's occasional reticence was hard to predict, and though it usually passed quickly and uneventfully, Esme suspected that Edward struggled more with what they were than he let on.

Edward liked and respected Carlisle, but it was sometimes hard for him to accept the choice that had been made for him, and having a close relationship with Carlisle only made his resentment harder to acknowledge. Esme sometimes worried that it was just a matter of time before things came to a head with Edward and his mixed feelings about immortality. Like her, Carlisle was, for the most part, non-confrontational, and he didn't like to push Edward into confiding in him. But maybe it would be easier to talk to Edward about what was bothering him if they did it together. Maybe even tonight would be a good time to broach the subject of Edward's unhappiness.

Esme sighed slightly, hoping they'd be able to help him, but then she was abruptly smiling when she heard Carlisle's car approaching. Whatever difficulties were waiting ahead of them, today, they were going to have fun. Slipping through the house and out the back door, Esme met him beside the garage.

"Good morning," she said, kissing him as soon as he was out of the car.

"It's a nice cloudy day so far," he said with a smile. "Ready to go?"

"Ready," she said, her arm sliding effortlessly through his. They moved at an almost human pace toward the pond at the back of the property, the very presence of which never failed to amuse Esme.

"What?" Carlisle said, shrugging out of his coat and raising his eyebrows when he saw her smiling.

"Our own pond," she said, shaking her head fondly. "Did your eagerness to buy this house have anything to do with a suspicion that I might like to learn to swim, or have you conceived a sudden fondness for fishing?"

"I wouldn't call it a suspicion exactly," Carlisle said, grinning when she draped her coat over the same rock his was resting on. "But you'd evinced some curiosity about swimming a few months ago, and I thought that if we were going to practice, we might appreciate some privacy."

Esme laughed, kissing him and snatching his hands when he started to pull off his suspenders. "And it's March, and we're in Oregon, so I suppose that we could attract undue attention at a public beach. Um…do you mind staying fully dressed while you show me how to do this?"

Carlisle looked bemused. "Of course, dearest. Do you mind if I ask why?"

Esme bit her lip. "Otherwise, I'll be distracted. I might learn something, but it won't have anything to do with swimming."

Carlisle chuckled darkly and then pulled away from her before stepping into the water, pausing only to remove his shoes and socks.

"Let's get started then," he said, "before _I_ become too distracted to be an effective teacher."

It took what Esme considered a surprisingly short amount of time before she was confidently doing laps around the little pond.

"See? You're a natural," Carlisle said, easily keeping pace with her as she swam.

"Show off," Esme said lightly, turning sharply to splash him in the face. "You know, this really is fun, but it's hard to imagine doing this so comfortably if I had to worry about breathing."

Esme squealed with laughter when he began to splash her back, but after a few minutes of playful splashing, they paused, looking at each other while treading water. It was virtually impossible not to stare: Carlisle's clothes were soaked to the point that they were almost transparent, and Esme realized with a smile that her dress must be in a similar state.

"You know, the human body is mostly water," Carlisle said unexpectedly, "so it's very buoyant. But we're built rather differently. We have venom, and the blood we ingest, but that's it in terms of liquid. That means it's lucky we're tireless, since we actually expend a great deal more energy than humans do to stay afloat."

Esme stared, wondering where this train of thought was headed. "Really. So?"

"So," Carlisle murmured, suddenly closing the gap between them and wrapping his arms around her, "since we're so dense, I wonder how fast we'll sink." Then he kissed her, and at the same moment, he stopped kicking. Esme felt them slip under water, and she stopped moving too, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she did so. Soon they'd sunk to the bottom of the pond, and it was a long time before they swam to the surface again.

"We'll," Carlisle said, handing her her coat when they finally stepped out of the water, "I certainly enjoyed your first swimming lesson."

"So did I," Esme said with a chuckle as she slipped on her shoes. When they'd both donned their coats, that being the only article of clothing either had left that wasn't destroyed, they started walking back to the house. Carlisle's arm was around her shoulders, and she burrowed into his side, happy to have him so close even though they couldn't feel the chill in the air around them. "Today, I learned the side stroke, how to tread water, and I also learned that we really can go without breathing indefinitely."


	22. Trust

Hi again. This is only the second Jasper chapter I've done—even though I really like Alice and Jasper fics—and it actually takes place right after the first Jasper chapter; it's really fun to imagine how that first meeting between Alice and Jasper and the Cullens would have gone, so here's my take on it. Also, I can't remember if we find out in one of the books that Alice stole Edward's room when she and Jasper first arrived or if this is something I read in a fic once. If it is the latter, I'm sorry I can't remember the story or author (and I'm sorry for not acknowledging you, whoever you are), but I think it's a splendid idea.

Hope you enjoy and please review if you get the chance!

Disclaimer: I don't own "Twilight," Stephenie Meyer does, which is pretty awesome (for Stephenie Meyer).

_1950_: Trust

Jasper's POV

Alice could see that he was a little edgy, standing in a house full of the smell of other vampires, so when they'd been in the Cullens' home for an hour or so, Alice suggested that Jasper go hunting with Carlisle.

"While you're gone, Esme can show me the rest of the house," she said eagerly.

"But you already know what it looks like," Esme said, smiling at Alice. Esme's personality came as a definite relief to Jasper; her feelings were transparent, filled with happiness at the thought of having two new children, and he had no concerns about leaving her alone with Alice. But what if the other Cullens returned while he was gone?

"The others won't be home until a few minutes after you two get back," Alice said, guessing what he was worried about.

"All right," Jasper said, still feeling slightly uneasy; he trusted Alice, but her visions, he knew, were only as certain as the people they involved.

"We'll be back shortly then," Carlisle said easily. As they stepped outside, Jasper acknowledged that he might not be as comfortable leaving Alice alone with Carlisle as he was leaving her with Esme. The doctor (Jasper had laughed when Alice told him that's what Carlisle was) certainly didn't appear dangerous, and his thoughts were perfectly benign, but in Jasper's experience, the older the vampire, the greater the potential danger. There were no scars on Carlisle that Jasper could see, though a long-sleeved, collared shirt could hide a lot, but from what Alice had told him, Carlisle was at least two hundred and fifty years old. Perhaps he hadn't reached his current age through fighting prowess as Jasper had, but no immortal reached their third century without considerable resilience, perception, and intelligence at their disposal.

"You've lost your accent," Carlisle said gently, "but having lived in the South for so long, it must be difficult, adjusting to this new life."

"Yes," Jasper said as they moved toward the woods. "Without Alice—well, before I met her, it was much harder."

"It's amazing that you've come as far as you have in such a short time," Carlisle said, and Jasper could feel that he was genuinely impressed. "I know I mentioned it before, but individuals like you and Alice are very rare among our kind."

Just then, the scent of deer was carried toward them by the breeze. Both took off running, and a few minutes later, Jasper was wiping blood off the sleeve of his jacket. Alice had given it to him; black, he'd realized quickly, concealed bloodstains very well. Glancing at Carlisle, Jasper saw that his white shirt was still spotless. Obviously, centuries of experience with this kind of hunting served him well. Alice too was very neat when she hunted, and Jasper hoped that after a few more months of practice, he'd cease to make such a mess of his kills.

"Ready to go back?" Carlisle asked.

Jasper nodded. He didn't like to admit it, but in spite of Alice's eagerness, he wasn't thrilled by the idea of living under the same roof with so many other immortals. Carlisle's behavior was puzzling, almost troubling too: vampires didn't generally accept changes in their circumstances so readily. Yet Carlisle and Esme both had accepted, almost without a murmur, two new additions to their family. Esme was young, so her easy acceptance of the situation was a bit more explicable, but Carlisle was far older, and presumably more set in his ways. Why wasn't he more wary of inviting strangers into his home?

"You and Esme…are very kind to accept us so suddenly," Jasper said cautiously as they ran back toward the house.

"Are you surprised?' Carlisle chuckled. "I would have been too, a few decades ago. But Esme…" he glanced meaningfully at Jasper. "Well, meeting her completely changed me. And she trusts the two of you."

"And that's enough for you to trust us too?" Jasper said incredulously. It startled him that Carlisle should sincerely feel that way.

"You trust Alice," Carlisle said simply. "That was enough to bring you here."

"Oh," Jasper muttered. "True."

Carlisle laughed. "I think in that respect, we already understand each other perfectly, Jasper."

Jasper nodded. "A few years ago, I wouldn't have been able to imagine having a mate," he said suddenly—it was strange to admit this to a near stranger, but Carlisle was right, they _did_ understand each other, at least as far as sudden meetings with women who changed their lives were concerned. "And never mind trusting someone so implicitly. But it's certainly…a welcome change, to say the least."

Carlisle smiled sadly—his thoughts were sympathetic, wondering what it must have been like to survive in the South for so many years. Jasper knew his scars were visible, but Carlisle had yet to show any alarm, let alone any sign at all he'd even noticed them. It was strange, being able to relax around someone, and even stranger to have someone other than Alice relax in his presence.

"I'm glad the two of you are here, Jasper," Carlisle said at last. His pace had slowed, and now he paused a few yards from the house. Jasper stopped, suddenly frozen in place—the smell of other immortals near the front door made him drop into a defensive posture automatically.

"The others are home," Carlisle explained calmly. "Ready to meet them?"

Jasper straightened up slowly. "…I suppose," he said, conscious of the fact that he sounded as reluctant as he felt.

Carlisle smiled encouragingly at him before stepping forward to greet his other children. Jasper followed him, slowly—none of the three standing by the door were thrilled to smell strange vampire right on their front porch.

"Edward, Rosalie, Emmett," Carlisle called. All three turned at the sound of his voice; they'd been tense, talking quietly about who the unknown visitors might be, and Jasper quickly tried to inject a bit of Carlisle's ease into the moment.

"Carlisle," Edward said, glancing uncertainly at Jasper. "Were we expecting visitors?"

"Not as such, but you could say they were expecting us," Carlisle said, nodding in Jasper's direction. Jasper was maintaining his relaxed posture, barely, but he wasn't ready to get any closer to the group just yet.

Rosalie's eyes narrowed as she stared at him. "What?"

"This is Jasper," Carlisle explained. "He and his mate Alice—"

"Hi, Edward!" Alice called, throwing open the front door. "Nice to meet you. You weren't all that attached to your bedroom, were you?"

Jasper sighed fondly. Yes, Alice was the reason he was here now, surrounded by strange vampires and having just drained a deer of blood. It was a scene he never could have imagined before meeting her, but he trusted Alice completely, and it came as only a bit of a surprise that he was already beginning to trust the Cullens too. He was amused with himself, the part of him still tied to his decades of fighting was vaguely horrified, and he was happy too, happy enough to gladly join the others inside the house so Alice could show him their new bedroom.


	23. Safe

WOW! OVER 100 REVIEWS!!! HUZZAH!!! Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed this fic so far, and here's a special treat as thanks: two more chapters! I've got a Jacob chapter and a Bella chapter that I'm hoping to finish for my weekly update on Sunday, but in the meantime, here are a couple shorter ones that I've been working on. Just out of curiosity, any fans of "Firefly" out there? There's an episode of "Firefly" called "Safe"—this chapter has nothing to do with that episode, except rescue is involved, but as soon as I thought about the title for this one, I thought of that episode and…yeah, I just thought you should know…  Anyway, hope you enjoy. (And please note that this chapter is set in Oregon, as opposed to Massachusetts…thought that would have been nice too).

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer (not I) is the creator of "Twilight."

_1964_: Safe

Alice's POV

She was sitting on the couch, watching TV with Jasper, when she saw it: Carlisle and Esme had gone to Salem to see a play, and she could see them stepping outside during the intermission. That was when Esme would take a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the cool night air. Then she'd smell the boy, the one by the door, walking between his parents. He'd slip, before they could catch him, and he'd skin his knee, and the smell of blood would be too tantalizing to resist. Before Carlisle could realize what she was doing, she'd have leapt for his throat, his blood would spatter all over the sidewalk, and Esme—

"Alice?" Jasper said sharply. Alice realized she'd sat bolt upright and was frozen in place, horrified.

"We have to go," she whispered. "Now."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"Will we catch them?" Jasper said quietly. He'd barely spoken since they'd gotten in the car and started driving. The whole way to Salem, Alice had sat rigid, telling herself over and over, _We won't be too late, we won't be too late, we won't be too late._ But when Jasper asked directly, she had to tell him the truth.

"I don't know," she whispered.

Jasper had no qualms about exceeding the speed limit, so they were downtown and parked beside a side entrance to the theater faster than any law-abiding person might imagine possible.

"Wait right here!" Alice called, hopping out of the car and dashing around to the front of the building. It was already intermission, and Alice was afraid she wouldn't catch them, that they might have already stepped outside—

But no, there they were, standing in the lobby, about to step through one of the sets of double doors leading out of the theater. Dodging the startled humans around her, Alice rushed through another set of doors and stepped in front of Esme just as Carlisle was opening the door for her. They both look startled, which amused Alice now that she had a moment to spare for something other than blind panic.

"Hi," she said quietly. "Let's go out the side door, all right?"

Both looked puzzled, but they followed her instantly and without comment—Carlisle and Esme trusted her visions implicitly, and they knew that she wouldn't be here if it wasn't something serious. Alice led them through the lobby, still giddy with relief enough to notice that she looked out of place, dressed as she was in jeans and a t-shirt. Carlisle and Esme were both dressed up, as was everyone else in sight.

"I would have to arrive on a rescue mission inappropriately dressed," Alice said, shaking her head as she opened a fire door that led to the alley where Jasper was parked. In the distance, Alice could hear the sound of running footsteps. Then she spotted the shadowy figures of two men racing down the alley, smelling of sweat and other bodily fluids.

"They wanted to steal the car," Jasper explained as everyone climbed inside. "I gave them to understand that that would be a bad idea."

"So what are you rescuing us from?" Esme wondered. She and Carlisle had slid into the backseat, and now they were staring at Alice, who wondered what she should say. The truth was…unpleasant, to say the least, and in a flash, Alice saw that it would be best if her explanation was vague.

"Something bad was going to happen," she said simply. "But now it isn't."

Esme relaxed back against the seat and Carlisle wrapped his arm around her. They could guess what 'something bad' meant—it meant a mistake, one that couldn't be rectified, and though Alice watched her family carefully (though she hoped not to the point of being too intrusive), sometimes she didn't see things in time to stop them from happening. But tonight she had.

"Thank you, Alice," Carlisle said softly. "You too, Jasper. How fast did you have to drive to get here?"

Alice smiled slightly—she knew, without the benefit of Edward's power, that Carlisle wasn't assuming one way or the other about who would have slipped, he or Esme.

"I'd rather not say, Dad," Jasper said lightly. "If I told you, you'd take away my car keys."

Jasper rarely joked, but doing so now, combined with the sudden air of tranquility he'd emitted helped everyone relax. Alice smiled at him and took his hand. This was just one of many reasons she was glad they'd found the Cullens, the most basic of which was that now they had a family. Carlisle and Esme did everything they could to keep their children safe, and when someone made a mistake, they helped the party in question get past it and forgive themselves. Alice too did everything she could to keep her siblings safe, and she was relieved beyond measure that she'd been able to save her mother tonight from the agony of what she might have done.

Jasper drove them around the block to where their car was parked, and there, they separated, both Carlisle and Esme still thanking them both. As she watched them drive away (any thoughts of returning for the second half of the play forgotten), Alice felt a twinge of sadness: would there ever come a day when all of them would be safe from potential disasters like the one she'd managed to avert tonight?

"Should we go home or enjoy a night in town?" Jasper murmured a few blocks before he would have to turn off to get to the highway.

"A night _on_ the town, or a night _in_ town?" Alice asked playfully. She knew he wasn't talking about their going to a play themselves, but she still wanted to hear him say it.

"_In_ town," he said, "I think I see a hotel at the end of the block."

"And I think I see that in our future," Alice said, sliding across the seat to lean against his shoulder. He chuckled, then sped up to beat the light. Alice smiled—Carlisle and Esme, she saw, were about to have a similar conversation on the other side of town. All four would enjoy their night in the city, though all were shaken by such a near miss; but they were safe, if only for tonight, and that was enough for now.


	24. Youth

This chapter involves a cute idea that sort of took over my brain and caused me to dissolve into delighted giggles every time I considered it—I probably won't do many more Renée chapters, but I love to wonder what she must think of the Cullens (and how much she'd like to know but doesn't)…

_2006_: Youth

Renée's POV

A glass of wine in one hand and a fresh Kleenex in the other, Renée sat watching Bella dance with Edward. She'd never, never expected to be doing this so soon, though she'd always wondered what Bella's wedding would be like, what kind of guy she would marry. But almost as soon as she'd met Edward Cullen and had seen the way he was with Bella, she'd sort of seen this coming. Edward was a serious young man, mature and down to earth—definitely cut from the same cloth as Bella—and despite the several months they'd been apart their senior year, Renée knew immediately when Bella had first hesitantly broached the subject of their engagement that they'd never really stopped loving each other.

When she'd been eighteen, Renée's understanding of love had led her to marry Charlie. Though she couldn't regret the result of that marriage, she was happy to think that Bella was, at eighteen, already a more sensible person than she'd ever been. She was in love, she was practically glowing with happiness, and as Renée watched her dance with Edward, the only thing imperfect about the moment was her own exasperation at the fact that she couldn't seem to stop crying.

Renée sighed and wiped her eyes yet again—Phil had gone looking for a fresh box of tissues. Sipping her wine, she thought about how beautiful the ceremony had been, how lovely the Cullens' home was, and how thrilled she was with Bella's in-laws. Planning the wedding with Esme and Alice had been both fun and reassuring; she'd known from the fact that they were as excited as she was that they were genuinely eager for Bella to join their family. And now, watching Carlisle and Esme dancing slowly a few yards away from Edward and Bella, Renée saw more clearly than she ever had before how very young they were. She almost couldn't believe they were already in their thirties, but really, what person over the age of twenty-one lied about their age to make themselves older? Even if they were as old as they claimed, Renée realized that they must have married just as young as Bella and Edward had.

That thought made her smile as she watched Charlie awkwardly take Bella's hand from Edward's before Edward moved to dance with Esme. Carlisle had obviously spotted her watching, and he came to stand beside her while they watched the two couples, one ungainly, one graceful.

"They've both got two left feet," Renée sniffled, nodding at Bella and Charlie. If she'd been Carlisle, she thought she would have been laughing at the odd woman trying to make conversation despite the continued presence of tears streaming down her face. He did chuckle, but in a kind way, and he even pulled an honest-to-God handkerchief out of his pocket to offer her. Renée shook her head, grateful but amused—it was like a gesture out of another century.

"And Edward and Esme…"Renée shook her head again. They moved so gracefully, so perfectly together that Renée felt certain that they must have taken lessons. "…they both look so happy," she said finally.

"Honestly, I don't know which of them is happier," Carlisle said, positively beaming at his wife and son. "Bella's been very good for Edward, Renée. The first time Edward brought her home to meet us, Esme was over the moon to see them so happy together."

Renée glanced at the other Cullens; Rosalie and Emmett along with Alice and Jasper were dancing now too. "I'm glad. You know, it looks like you might have a couple more weddings on your hands before too long," she said.

Carlisle smiled. "You're probably right."

Renée looked back at him again. "You and Esme must have been about their age when you got married," she said, hoping she didn't sound as curious as she felt.

"Actually, I was twenty-three," Carlisle chuckled, "and Esme was a little older."

Renée shook her head, amazed. "You both look so much younger than that. It's hard to believe I'm only a few years older—very few," she amended quickly, and Carlisle laughed. He didn't comment on the age difference between her and Phil, which was a relief—people often did, which was exasperating. If Renée had learned nothing else from her first and second marriages, it was that age was only one (often small) part of compatibility.

"You know, Bella expected me not to approve of this," Renée said, glad that her tears had finally stopped for the moment. "But I told her that my experiences were completely different from what hers are going to be. Still, I might have worried a little bit if I hadn't seen how supportive you and Esme are of your kids. Honestly, I can't imagine how you two did it, raising these five so well. Bella was about the least difficult kid in the world, but I still feel sometimes that I could have done a better job." Oh great, she was going to start crying again…

"Everyone feels that way," Carlisle said gently. "That's the best and worst thing about being a parent, I think. You have to just sort of make it up as you go along, and with any luck, you start to improve the longer you do it."

Renée nodded. It was sort of strange, having this conversation with someone who looked as young as Carlisle. He obviously knew what he was talking about, but you wouldn't know it to look at him, given that his whole appearance suggested he was only a few years older than his adopted children. His eyes were on Esme and Edward, smiling as he watched them dance. Renée grinned at Phil, who'd returned with a box of tissues in hand.

"Trying to find out more about your in-laws again?" he whispered.

"Carlisle says he was _twenty-three_ when they got married," she whispered back. "And Esme's older than he is!"

Phil whistled quietly. "Damn, and he's what, thirty-five now? I hope I'm that well-preserved when I'm his age."

"And Esme and I must be about the same age," Renée said, shaking her head. "Wow, that's…sort of a depressing thought."

"You look really good for any age," Phil murmured, and Renée giggled as he pulled her toward the dance floor. Carlisle had gone back to dancing with Esme, and Bella was with Edward again, looking elated. It was certainly wonderful, being young and in love, but gazing up at Phil, Renée reflected that romance was something to relish at any age.


	25. Constancy

Thank you, thank you, thank you as always for your wonderful reviews—I'm so happy to have gotten over a hundred reviews for this fic so far! Just so you know, my appetite for feedback is insatiable, so please continue your generous contributions (if you've got a minute to hit that green button at the bottom of the page…)

Sorry for my (by now predictable) tardiness—Sunday is always my goal for updates, but it just hasn't happened lately. Like the boulder that Sisyphus was doomed to push up a mountain for all of eternity, homework has really been just a constant joy lately, the word 'joy' being used in the most sarcastic sense of the word. What's freaky is that I know in my heart that my classes now are a lot better than some of the math classes I took in high school—thus Jacob's difficulty with math in this chapter.

This is, at last, another Jacob chapter—I really like Jacob as a narrator, but somehow it took me a long time to come up with this idea. Length is another strange characteristic of my Jacob chapters (all two of them)—somehow, I start with what I think is a pretty straightforward idea, and then I end up with a couple thousand more words than what I thought I'd get. Just one of life's mysteries, I suppose.

One last thing: I like the title of this one, but I can't think of the word "constancy" without thinking of the episode of the Simpsons (the "Mr. Sparkle" episode, as it happens) when Reverend Lovejoy gives a sermon on constancy and puts everyone to sleep. That won't happen with this chapter though! Probably. Hopefully not, assuming this introduction has not done so already—read on and see!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the creator of "Twilight," the following is purely for entertainment purposes, and CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT THERE ARE ONLY 36 MORE DAYS UNTIL "NEW MOON"?

_2007_: Constancy

Jacob's POV

I'd been sitting on the floor of the Cullens' living for almost two hours, half a dozen worksheets in front of me, before finally giving up in disgust and tossing my algebra book across the room. By far the worst part of having to go back to school (now that, for the time being, there aren't any bloodthirsty vampires around trying to kill us all) is Algebra II. Math didn't used to bother me, but now I see it for the instrument of torture that it really is. And it hasn't helped my self esteem that Nessie, who is, oh, let's see, not even a _year_ old, seems to understand this stuff fine. She won't do my homework though—she says that if she did, I wouldn't _learn_ anything. Right, I'm learning lots right now. I'm learning crap that I'm never going to need to use again after I graduate. I'm learning that Algebra II thoroughly sucks. And I'm learning that vampires are, as a rule, totally unsympathetic to my suffering.

"Aww, did the big book hurt the little doggie's little brain?" Rosalie simpered. She and Alice had just come in the front door carrying about a hundred shopping bags between them; honestly, Emmett should be made a saint just for putting up with Rosalie.

"While you were gone, I went upstairs, opened your closet, and chewed up all your shoes," I said, turning on the TV. I figured I deserved TV if I had to endure three more weeks of school before summer while other people got to have fun. I could hear Jasper and Emmett outside, playing football despite the fact that it was pouring, and Edward, Bella and Nessie had gone hunting together, leaving me alone with homework. Now I was going to have to listen to Alice and Rosalie holding their own private fashion show in Alice's room. At least the TV might sort of drown them out…

In response to my threatening her shoes, Rosalie said something predictably crude and flounced off up the stairs, Alice trailing after her.

"At this rate, you're not going to get your homework done," she called cheerfully. Alice can't see visions when I'm around, but I knew that didn't mean she was wrong in this case. Sighing, I got up to retrieve my book, only to find that Esme had already picked it up.

"Like some help?" she asked. "Come on, I just got done unpacking the groceries. While you do homework, I'll make you something to eat."

I grinned. "Finally, some sympathy. So far, everyone's been ignoring my math-related pain."

"Well, they've all taken Algebra II more times than they care to remember," Esme said, laughing. "If anything, I think they almost envy you the novelty of the experience."

I snorted as I sat down at the kitchen table. "Right, envy me and my math homework. That's not crazy or anything."

Esme laughed again and started making spaghetti sauce from scratch. While she worked, I read questions out loud and, having the scary perfect memory of a vampire, she was able to tell me exactly where I went wrong on a given problem and how I could fix the mistake. Pretty soon, the kitchen smelled delicious too. This didn't help me concentrate, but it was nice—left to ourselves, Billy and I never manage anything much more elaborate than frozen pizza.

An hour later, my homework was actually, amazingly, finished, and I'd eaten something like two pounds of spaghetti drowning in sauce. Leah still gives me grief about it once in a while, but Seth, and even Quil and Embry agree that the more time you spend around the Cullens, the less their smell bothers you. Now I could sit a few feet away from Esme while she looked over my homework and not only not be grossed out by her scent, but actually appreciate the aroma of chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven.

"Cookies too?" Bella said—she, Edward and Nessie had slipped in the back door with the freaky stealth of bloodsuckers. When I'm not a wolf, it always bothers me that humans have such crappy hearing. "You know you're spoiling him, Esme."

Esme smiled. "And you know that I like to cook. Besides, I wanted to ask Nessie to try something before the three of you went to Charlie's for dinner."

Nessie smiled, but I could tell she wasn't really looking forward to the eating part of the visit to her grandpa's house. "Human food again, grandma?"

"Chocolate chip cookies this time," Esme said. "It's a new recipe, which I think you might like. Here Jacob, I made a separate batch for you."

Curious, I took one of the cookies Esme had removed from the baking sheet and placed on a rack to cool. She was using a spatula, which kind of made me smile—I mean, I guess it was neater that way, but it wasn't like she could get burned if she picked the things up with her bare hands.

Edward chuckled, and I turned to glare at him while I shoved the cookie into my mouth. "Hey, out of my brain, please," I said, but what with the cookie, it came out sounding like gibberish.

"Sorry," Edward said, smiling as Nessie took an experimental bite of her own cookie. Then, to everyone's surprise, except maybe for Esme's, Nessie's face lit up.

"Wow, it's really good!" she said, eating the rest of the cookie and reaching for another.

"One more, and then wait till later," Bella said gently, looking pleasantly surprised. "Esme, what's in those?"

"Blood," Esme said simply. "Only about a cup. I used half blood, half milk."

Edward started laughing, having obviously heard the horrified turn of my thoughts.

Esme turned, and she must have realized that I was contemplating throwing up, because then she said quickly, "Jacob, don't worry. There was a reason I made two batches—yours are the blood-free cookies."

"Oh," I said, relieved that I didn't feel like hurling anymore. "Seriously though, _eww_."

"What?" Nessie said. "They taste great."

"Says the kind of twisted little kid who just loves the taste of blood," I said, ruffling her hair fondly. Nessie bared her teeth at me, but then she smiled and finished her cookie.

"Are you full?" Bella asked.

"Yup," Nessie said. "I'm ready to go pretend to eat dinner now."

"We'll be back around nine or ten then," Edward said, and then the three of them left again, pausing only so Bella could run upstairs and borrow a hairbrush from Alice—Charlie might wonder why Nessie's hair was full of leaves unless she cleaned up a little first. Chief Swan knows that there's plenty that's weird about his granddaughter, but he tries not to think about it, which I think is a pretty good strategy. It's bad enough that she's growing so fast, which he can't help but notice, but if he knew that she and her parents regularly went running through the woods and drinking blood, he might have a harder time dealing with the whole 'mysterious supernatural creatures' deal we've got going on.

"What's the new house looking like right now?" I asked when they were gone. "Have you added another story since the last time I asked?"

"I think three will be enough," Esme said patiently, though she got a kind of thoughtful look on her face as though the idea of a four story house was something she might want to explore.

"I'm just saying, you should err on the side of too big instead of too small," I said seriously. "Alice's closet alone probably needs a whole floor."

Esme laughed—I was only kind of exaggerating. Honestly, I was sort of ridiculously curious about the new house, but Esme never seemed to get tired of my questions. The way she was designing it, there would be room for all of us under one roof, but there'd also be a number of individual houses built nearby the main Cullen house, so everyone could have their space: Edward, Bella and Nessie would get a house, Rosalie and Emmett would get a house, and Alice and Jasper would get a house. Apparently, I got a house too, which would be big enough for the pack to share if they wanted to visit or even stay long term. My bedroom at Billy's can barely hold my bed, so let's just say I was sort of freaked out when I heard Esme was designing a _house_ for me.

"Well, I'm actually thinking about adding an indoor pool," Esme said thoughtfully. "It's a bit extravagant—"

"What, this house isn't?" I demanded.

"But," Esme said, ignoring me, "we're going to be closer to civilization than we usually are, so I'm anxious to make the inside of the main house as diverting as possible. Here, we can swim in the river, take a run to Canada whenever we want, and do basically whatever we'd like outside, weather permitting, without having to worry about detection. That's not going to be as easy, living so close to Dartmouth."

I didn't comment on the location of the house. None of us were all that eager to move, but it was sort of becoming a safety issue for us to stay in Forks. Carlisle looked too young to be as old as he said he was; Sam's pack, while perfectly friendly on the surface, really wasn't thrilled with the whole 'continued presence of vampires right next door' thing; and much as I didn't want to think about it, Nessie was sort of like a lightning rod for danger. Ever since we'd managed to convince the Volturri not to kill us the year before, Carlisle was fairly certain that the news of the existence of half-immortals was spreading, and not everyone in the world was thrilled about it. Bella and I agreed that much as we didn't like leaving our Dads—regardless of the protection that Sam guaranteed to provide—if we weren't around, they were a lot less likely to even need protection.

Just then, Alice skipped into the room. "I just called Carlisle to let him know to come home early," she said. "I didn't tell you earlier, but Huilen and Nahuel are coming to visit."

I was out of my seat so fast that I think I must have look like I'd been electrocuted. Esme, who's just about the most patient person in the world, actually sighed, exasperated by my (in her opinion) over-the-top reaction. "Jacob…" she said soothingly.

"What the hell is that creep's problem with some advance warning when he decides to just drop by?" I demanded. I really, really, really don't like this Nahuel guy—apparently he's trying to learn more about how half-immortals are different from vampires—at least, that's his excuse for hanging around the Cullens. Right, like he hasn't had a hundred and fifty _years_ to figure himself out. It's not that he just wants to see Nessie. Sure. Oh, and I _love_ having random bloodsuckers just a few miles from my house.

"Maybe the doggie should go outside and mark his territory, just to be safe," Rosalie said, joining us in the kitchen. Oh goody, someone else to watch me have a temper tantrum

"Rose," Esme said warningly. "Jacob, sit down and relax.

"I'll be outside," I said shortly.

Alice smiled apologetically. "Sorry, but I didn't tell you because even though I couldn't actually see you getting upset, I was pretty sure you would."

"Yeah," I muttered irritably. "I'm predictable that way."

I phased as I jumped off the front porch, thus destroying yet another t-shirt and pair of jeans, but oh well. At least it had stopped raining. I was too keyed-up to wait to change—I know they saved our necks last year, I know the Cullens consider them friends, but I'm a lot more comfortable meeting Nahuel when I know that I can rip him in half with my teeth, if necessary. Huilen I don't have a problem with, and yeah, I've been told that this is insanely hypocritical, in the sense that _she's_ the bloodsucker, and Nahuel doesn't even need to drink blood really, but I don't really care. Esme insists that he's "very nice,", and that when he and his aunt visit, we should all try to make them feel at home, but I could not be less interested in rolling out the welcome mat every time these weirdoes decide to stop in.

Seriously, who the hell comes all the way to _Forks_ from _anywhere _without calling in advance? I guess Huilen and Nahuel are nomads, so they travel around a lot, and it's not like they have a cell phone—but seriously, finding a pay phone and making a call isn't all that tricky. If I wanted to be paranoid, I'd wonder if these sudden visits weren't a way of testing the waters, seeing if they can get around Alice's visions, which wouldn't exactly be hard with me hanging around all the time…

I'd been pacing around the edges of the yard for a few minutes, staring out at the woods surrounding the house, when Carlisle's car appeared at the end of the drive. I'd heard him coming from a few miles away, but since I was listening for the sound of the car and nothing else, I almost didn't hear Emmett in time. Right before he would have tackled me, I leapt to the side and then turned around just in time to smack head first into Jasper. At least _he_ wasn't trying to attack me—if he were, I would have split my head open. As it was, I sort of stumbled backwards and sat down; running into a vampire is a lot like running into a wall.

"Sorry," Jasper said, brandishing their football at me. "Wanna play?"

"Yeah, get Seth out here and we'll play fetch with you guys!" Emmett said, laughing. Somehow, the dog jokes don't bug me when they're coming from Emmett, but with him, you get the feeling he's just being funny, as opposed to with Rosalie, who you feel's just being a bitch.

I shook my head and nodded at Carlisle's car, which was finally in sight.

"Company must be coming," Jasper murmured, looking amused. He could probably guess from Carlisle's feelings of pleased anticipation and my barely contained irritation what was going on.

Emmett grinned. "Oh yeah? Well, we'll be sure to watch how you welcome our visitors, Jake."

I bared my teeth in response, but we all knew I wasn't really going to do anything; Carlisle and Esme have a fairly strict "no biting guests" rule. Emmett and Jasper joined Rose, Alice and Esme on the porch just as Carlisle came around from the back of the house, having left his car in the garage. I trotted toward him, expecting a lecture about manners, but then an unpleasantly familiar smell hit my nose and I whipped around, snarling.

"Jacob," Carlisle said quietly, appearing beside me with annoyingly inhuman speed. "You don't want me to start telling you to 'heel,' do you?"

I growled at him, which made Dr. Fang smile, and then I forced myself to shut the hell up and stop showing my teeth as Huilen and Nahuel stepped into the Cullens' front yard.

"Carlisle," Huilen said, glancing at me. "It's good to see you again."

"And you, Huilen, Nahuel," Carlisle said. "We'd been wondering when you might visit again."

"It's taking longer than we expected to adjust to this new diet," Huilen said, now looking at her nephew, who was glaring at me. Yeah, the guy who _could_ eat human food, but preferred the taste of blood was glaring at _me_, like I was the freak here. Somehow though, it was sort of satisfying to know that he hated my guts too. If my dislike of Nahuel was as irrational as I'd been told, then at least the feeling was mutual.

"Well, we're happy to help you in any way we can on that account," Carlisle said easily. "The two of you are welcome to stay as long as you like."

Huilen nodded, then looked at me again. I heard Carlisle sigh very quietly beside me, and I couldn't resist shooting Nahuel my best wolfy smile, which involves lots of teeth and pretty much nothing else. A part of me, a very small part of me, felt sort of guilty making Carlisle look like a bad host; I mean, if you say someone's welcome to stay, fine, how nice, but if you say that same thing while there's a giant wolf standing next to you, it sort of sends a mixed message.

This is something else about my hanging out with the Cullens that just drives Leah nuts: she says that I'm just a glorified guard dog to them, but it's not like they've ever told me to do any guarding. Carlisle has yet to tell me to do anything but ease up a little when a strange vampire comes to visit, which I understand, but I still like my way of greeting guests. I like the Cullens, as a rule (Rosalie being the biggest exception), and I especially like Carlisle and Esme. This is their house, and though it doesn't seem to bother them very much, it bothers me that other vampires just kind of show up unannounced. So I like to say hi to visitors after I've phased. And hey, I'd be lying if I didn't say that the looks you sometimes get on a vampire's face when they see me aren't priceless. Standing next to Carlisle now, I was like a big furry sign reading "do not mess with this family."

"Why don't the two of you head inside?" Carlisle said, his tone friendly enough to offset my rather large presence. "I'll join you in just a moment."

Huilen took one more long look at me and then nodded. "Of course."

Nahuel still didn't say anything, which I thought was nice of him. As soon as they were on the porch, Carlisle spoke.

"Esme put another set of clothes in the plastic box behind the garage, if you'd like to phase," he offered.

I nodded—I guess we were going to talk about this later—and then I went off to find the clothes. When I was human again, I opened the box Carlisle had described and shook my head; these _looked_ like normal clothes, shorts and a t-shirt, but I was pretty sure that they'd cost more than I wanted to think about. It felt weird when I considered all the money that (usually Esme) spent buying me clothes and food—and when am I ever going to be able to pay them back?

After I pulled on the shorts, I examined the label on the t-shirt—yup, designer. Honestly, if I was just going to destroy it in a week anyway, what was wrong with shopping at Wal-Mart?

"Jealous of Nahuel, Jacob?" Carlisle said quietly. I jumped, then cursed when I smacked my head on a low branch. Carlisle was standing far enough away to give me privacy, but yikes, I'd had no idea he was there.

"Human hearing really sucks," I muttered. "And why the hell would I be jealous? Just because they're both half-immortal doesn't mean anything. He's like a hundred fifty-some years older than her anyway."

"Jacob, I'm about two hundred and fifty years older than Esme," Carlisle said, sounding amused.

Whoa. Damn. Yeah, he was... "Right…sorry."

"Putting aside the fact that you have no reason to be jealous—"  
"Yet," I said grimly. According to the jerk himself, Nessie was only going to be a kid for another six years or so.

"—it happens to the best of us, but growling at Nahuel isn't going to make him go away. For my part, I think it might be better if you tried to get to know him. Nessie's going to want to too someday, you know. She already wants to know more about what she is."

Hmm. That actually made sense, much as I hated to admit it. I'd pulled my t-shirt on by this point, and now I was tying my shoes. "…fine," I said finally. "I'll come inside, I'll eat some more cookies, I'll sit in the same room with him, and I won't even try to rip his head off. Satisfied, doc?"

"Perfectly," Carlisle said dryly. We were both quiet for a moment while I dawdled with my shoes. I really didn't want to be anywhere near Nahuel; six years seemed like a long time now, but I felt like it was going to pass practically before I knew it. When she was grown up, how _was_ Nessie going to feel about me? About _him_?

"You know, before Esme and I were married, she and Edward and I lived in Michigan briefly," Carlisle offered suddenly. "While we were there, a nomad I hadn't seen in years named Richard came to visit us. He didn't have a mate, though that thought didn't occur to me until he shook Esme's hand. The second he touched her, and smiled at her, I wanted to tear him limb from limb."

I laughed, too surprised to maintain my bad mood for the moment. "_You_ almost ripped someone apart? Seriously?"

"I seriously considered it for all of a second," Carlisle said, chuckling. "But then I remembered that Richard and I were friends, that he'd only been polite, and I briefly worried that I'd completely lost my mind. Of course, Edward found the incident more amusing than anything else—it confirmed a suspicion he'd long entertained about the true nature of my feelings for Esme."

Okay, so knowing that even Dr. Fang could lose his cool was comforting. "All right. The next time I have the urge to tear your guest in half, I'll try to follow your good example, Carlisle."

He chuckled. "I'll see you inside, Jacob."

I waited a couple more minutes, and then I went back in the house. I even went into the dining room to sit with everyone, though I realized immediately that they were discussing the difficulty of resisting the urge to drink human blood—yuck. As I took the last empty chair, I tried to ignore the fact that everyone was staring at me; Nahuel looked as pissy as ever (no surprise—sorry for crashing the bloodsuckers-only meeting, you creep), Huilen just looked surprised, and Emmett and Alice both seemed to be trying not to laugh. Rose was smirking too—I guess my face probably _was_ pretty entertaining—I'm basically used to the smell of the Cullens, but Huilen and Nahuel smelled _bad_, and I wasn't doing anything to disguise my expression of disgust. Seriously, after eating so recently, it was really unpleasant to be so close to these two.

Carlisle and Esme alone were trying to look encouraging, though when Esme smiled at me, she bit her lip like she couldn't decide whether to scold me or laugh at my grossed-out expression. Despite the sickening smell of strange vampire, I eventually managed to relax a little. Leaning back in my chair, I noticed that Carlisle and Esme were holding hands under the table. That made me smile genuinely for the first time since Alice had announced our visitors. It was good to know, no matter where we lived or how much time passed, that Dr. Fang and Esme would be around to help me when I needed help, to give me a place to live where there was plenty to eat and plenty of vampires to bicker with; and to keep me from killing people (or bloodsuckers) when I went temporarily insane with (okay, I'll admit it) _jealousy_. If nothing else, I can rely on these two, and I think I'll always feel that way…even if I do slip up someday and tear Nahuel's head off. They'll probably forgive me. Eventually.


	26. Tears

Happy Monday, everyone! I really did almost update on Sunday this week, but alas, I was a bit slow finishing this, even though it's a short one. Thank you for all your wonderful reviews, CullenFest especially. I'm really glad that everyone seemed to enjoy the last chapter, so look for more Jacob chapters to come: I've got at least one story idea that I want to explore before New Moon—ONLY 31 MORE DAYS!!!!! Just one short chapter tonight, and then I hope to have another two up on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Please note that this chapter is entitled "Tears" for a reason: it makes me cry, or rather, the premise of this story makes weeping seem like the thing to do. I think the basic idea is a good one, but it's sad too…just so you know, a happier Bella chapter is coming next.  Thanks as always for reading, and if you have a moment, please review!

Disclaimer: Just so you know, Stephenie Meyer is the creator of "Twilight," Almond Milk Tea is _delicious_, and ONLY 31 DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON!!!!!

_1919_: Tears

Esme's POV

It was just after sunrise when Esme rose and went down the hall to check on the baby. He was already awake, cooing happily as he kicked at his blanket and stared up at the ceiling, and Esme smiled as she picked him up and took him downstairs. She set him down on a blanket on the floor beside her while she started breakfast, and every few moments, she turned to watch the baby as he chewed on his toes or rolled around on the old quilt beneath him. Esme hummed a little while she cooked; once she'd lit the wood stove, she fried a few eggs and heated water for coffee, and she was nearly finished when Carlisle came downstairs.

He'd shaved and dressed for the hospital, and Esme giggled when he grabbed her from behind and kissed her good morning.

"The eggs are going to burn," she said, playfully shoving him away after a few seconds. Carlisle grinned and scooped up the baby, who laughed and tried to tug on his father's nose.

"You're going to be a big brother soon," Carlisle said, rocking the still giggling baby. "So be a good boy today and let your mother rest, all right?"

"I'll take a nap in the afternoon while he's sleeping," Esme promised, sliding the eggs and toast she'd made onto their plates while waiting for the coffee to finish. "Honestly though, I feel fine. I'm as big as a house, but I haven't been tired."

Carlisle sat down, the baby in his lap. Esme loved seeing them like this: both her Carlisles, together. She knew she was the envy of every woman in the neighborhood for having such a loving husband and father. Esme set a plate in front of Carlisle before pouring the coffee and sitting down herself. Lately, this always took a few seconds, given how distended her stomach had become. When she was seated, Carlisle squeezed her hand.

"I'll be home early tonight. You promised to let me try cooking, remember?"

"Yes, but you really don't have to," Esme insisted, though it thrilled her that he was offering to cook. He'd been helping her with cleaning and other household chores for some time, just as he had before their son was born, but she'd always been reluctant to give up the reins as it were in the kitchen. Esme loved to cook, and she loved being the one to make their house a home by having a good meal prepared when he came home every night.

Carlisle smiled. "You promised, and I plan to hold you to our agreement." Looking down at the baby, who was trying to grab his coffee cup, he said, "Would you like to try some coffee this morning?"

Esme giggled, and little Carl smiled. She and Carlisle fed him together, laughing more than scolding when either had to dodge the bits of egg or toast that the baby expelled from his mouth. Soon after, Carlisle left for work, following another long kiss goodbye.

The day passed quickly. Esme did a little cleaning, and then since it was a warm morning, she washed some clothes and hung them outside to dry. After a light lunch, she read to the baby for a few minutes: it was a book about art that Carlisle had given to her, and though he couldn't understand the words, the sound of her voice seemed to soothe the baby. Before long, little Carlisle was sound asleep.

Esme left the room quietly and decided to take a short nap, as promised. She lay down on top of the bed she and Carlisle shared, but on impulse, she traded her pillow for his. Lying on her side, she took a deep breath and sighed as his scent flooded her nose. There was nothing, _nothing_ else like his scent. Esme smiled as she let her eyes drift shut.

After what seemed like just a few minutes, Esme woke—she'd felt a sudden, sharp pain in her stomach. Esme's eyes flew open—_is the baby coming early?_ she thought wildly. Then she realized that the room was dark. This was their room, the _real_ bedroom she slept in. Charles had rolled over—the pain she'd felt had been caused by his elbow connecting with her abdomen.

Esme sat up quietly and remained motionless for a few minutes, hardly daring to breath for fear of forgetting something. After trying to recall and commit to memory every instant of the dream she'd just had, she lay back down and fought the urge to scream with frustration. She could feel herself beginning to tremble; a terrible sensation of loss, of disappointment so intense that she felt sick with it rose up in her throat, but that wasn't why she was shaking. His smell, she realized, had been more perfect than the weak simulacrum that her mind had conjured—what had seemed like a perfect dream a moment ago was not, in fact, superior to the reality of the flesh and blood man she'd met years before.

Why had she been woken early? Why couldn't she have slept until Carlisle came home, so he could kiss her and play with their child again? For a few minutes, if only in a dream, she could have loved the man she was married to. Now that she was awake, she could feel the bruises Charles had left on her arms when he'd seized her that evening to enjoy his privilege as her husband. Dinner…she'd burned dinner, and she wondered how the cut on her cheek would look the next morning. Shouldn't she be able to enjoy her dreams in their entirety, or wasn't she allowed even that small consolation for the realities of her daily nightmare?

Esme knew from experience what tremors like the ones that shook her now led to. Moving slowly so as not to wake Charles, Esme slid her pillow out from under her head and rolled onto her stomach, flat and empty now, and pressed her face into the mattress. Then she covered her head with the pillow and gripped it tightly with both hands, desperately trying to muffle her sobs.


	27. Sleep

Happy Wednesday (almost Thursday) everyone! Thanks so much for your reviews, and since a couple people have asked, I might do continuations of "Tears" and "Envy" at some point—it's very probable. I've got my stories for the next few weeks pretty well planned, but by the time "New Moon" comes out, I'll be looking around for new ideas. Basically, I might do sequels of sorts to a number of chapters eventually, but it'll be at least next month before I get to any of these. In the meantime though, please let me know if you have a favorite chapter that you'd like to see continued! :) I'll do my best to follow through by and by.

Here now is a short story about efficiency, and how the best laid plans can go awry: this past weekend, I went out of town, so I wrote the following chapters in advance, thinking that all I'd have to do would be to type and edit said chapters for posting. This is a great idea, unless you divide your drafts between two notebooks and forget one at home…yeah, so, maybe don't do that. But hey, two new chapters today, so it worked out in the end.

Here's another sort of sad chapter; both the chapters today deal with thirst (hmm, I didn't plan it that way…do I need something else to drink?) In this one, I feel like Carlisle would be, for the most part, philosophical about his situation at this stage in his solitary life, but I sort of imagine that realizing he was another year older might make him stop and think about how he might wish his life were different. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the creator of "Twilight," but pretty soon I'm going to have a life-sized cardboard cutout of Carlisle in my living room, so in its own small way, that's kind of awesome too. (I'M SO EXCITED!!!)

_1847_: Sleep

Carlisle's POV

It was early in the year for them, but fireflies were flickering intermittently outside the windows of the Pittsburgh hospital where Carlisle was on the night shift. The rest of the building was almost completely devoid of staff; Carlisle could hear another doctor turning the pages of a novel on the floor below him, and down the hall, a nurse was emptying a bedpan, but otherwise it was quiet. Spring had quickly given way to summer, and Carlisle thought it strange that he was now over two hundred years old.

In truth, he guessed that he was almost two hundred and three years old, assuming he'd been about twenty-three when he'd died, but lately, he hadn't liked to dwell on his exact age—he preferred that the precise year of his birth remain a mystery. What month he'd been born in was another unknown, but Carlisle had always liked to think that he'd been born in spring; as a child, watching the grays and browns of earth in winter come to life again in a riot of green leaves and colorful flowers, he'd thought that everything was born in spring, and he'd been puzzled when his father performed baptisms any other time of year.

Now that summer had arrived, Carlisle had to concede that another birthday must have passed. He was at least two hundred years old, though that was a low estimate, and yet tonight, when he was finally forcing himself to acknowledge the fact, was like any other night. He felt no older; nor was he, by his own estimation, noticeably wearier with the world and how quickly it was changing, a thing he'd seen in many immortals. And he wasn't unhappy—at least, not exactly.

After two centuries, a lack of companionship was the only thing that really bothered him about what he'd become. It was only in the past few years that the awful thirst that had plagued him all this time had really begun to fade—actually, it seemed almost gone. Now he could meet patients comfortably, without having to conceal a pained expression or the anxiety he'd once felt when he thought of losing control. Over the years, there'd been so many close calls—more than he cared to remember really—so many moments when he'd felt himself about to slip, but then in the next instant, he'd forced himself to resist. And he was glad. It had been worth it, all those years of struggle, to feel the way he did now: confident (but he hoped not arrogant) in his own capacity to resist bloodlust.

Tonight, as Carlisle looked out at the growing city he would call home for a few more years, he felt grateful that he'd been changed in the time he had. The way the world was growing now, avoiding humans would be virtually impossible for a newborn by the end of the century. Of course, America was far better than Europe. He'd been out west a few years before, thinking he might try finding work at a frontier hospital next, and he'd marveled at the sheer openness of the territory. The land was vast and beautiful, the hunting was good, but the region was still too sparsely populated for his purposes. It was too sunny too; a doctor who always asked to work the night shift would draw attention in a place where there were so few people, but he knew it wouldn't be that way forever. In another decade or so, settlements would grow large enough to make concealment possible, and he'd be able to explore a new part of this fascinating continent.

Finding things to look forward to had become a vital part of Carlisle's life in recent decades. He enjoyed going to work each day, particularly here at Mercy Hospital, where he met patients from many different backgrounds sporting a wide variety of ailments. It was challenging, but all the difficulties involved just made the job more rewarding. But being at home could be equally stimulating: the small house near the edge of town that he'd bought was full of books now, and though the quickness with which even the realm of knowledge changed could be staggering at times, it came as a relief to Carlisle that history, literature, languages never slowed down, never seemed to stagnate in his eyes.

He sometimes wondered if watching the progression of things had become a hobby in and of itself. Distraction, after all, was the key element in everything he did when he wasn't working. Carlisle knew, though he didn't like to admit it, that as much as he still enjoyed his studies, the most important thing about everything he read, everything he thought about, was that it kept him from dwelling on himself or his situation more than what would be healthy. He tried not to even think the word 'lonely,' because he worried that acknowledging the possibility would make it a reality. And what would being lonely accomplish? Wasn't it better to resign himself to the inevitable solitude that had come to define his immortality?

_The world is changing_, Carlisle thought suddenly, staring out at the street. As soon as the sun rose, the sounds of new buildings going up in the distance would begin again, as they did every morning. _But I'm not._

This wasn't a cheerful thought exactly, but it was comforting somehow; even if nothing about his existence changed in this century, it wasn't as though he didn't have time to wait. _Maybe my three-hundreth birthday will play out rather differently than this one has_, he thought dryly, smiling at his reflection in the glass when he remembered that this wasn't even a real birthday.

Turning away from the window, Carlisle put his coat back on and went to do his rounds. It was midnight, and now the halls were very still, the nurse he'd heard before having returned to her station. The patients he looked in on were all sleeping soundly, and though the entrance of a human might have roused some of them, Carlisle passed silently in and out of their rooms, knowing at all times where to avoid loose floorboards or to shut a door before an errant breeze could slam it shut. He had nearly finished his tour of the floor when he paused at the foot of a patient's bed, frowning.

The man was of indeterminate age, his hair (Carlisle guessed) prematurely gray. Even in sleep, his face was stern, intense, and unlike the other patients, he'd stirred slightly when the door had opened. Carlisle smiled slightly as he left the room—for an instant, he'd been reminded of his father.

As he continued to watch the night pass, Carlisle found himself trying to remember what it had been like to feel weariness, or to fall asleep. Listening to the quiet respirations of the humans all around him, Carlisle had to acknowledge that as he aged, he could identify other things he'd forgotten: the different tastes of food; being too warm or too cold; feeling pain; feeling like part of a family. His memories of all these things existed on an intellectual level at least, but he couldn't remember what they'd _felt_ like. (Of course, having only his father had never felt like much of a family). In acquiring the advanced senses of an immortal, he'd lost most of the memories that his far weaker human senses had fashioned. In another two hundred years, how much more of what had once made him human would be lost?

_I need to bring a book from now on, for quiet nights like this_, Carlisle thought. This was what came of having unlimited time to dwell on apprehensions: in humans, the negative physical effects of going without sleep were obvious, but in immortals, the wear and tear that perpetual sleeplessness generated was less obvious. Carlisle sighed quietly. Really, it was best to take this life one day at a time, as opposed to looking too closely at the years or centuries as they passed. Though sometimes the hours seemed to drag, every day, and every night too, passed eventually. _I wish I could remember,_ he thought before he could stop himself, _what it felt like to go to sleep at night and wake up in the morning. Now, if I ever sleep again, I'll never wake up. Not in this world anyway._

Mercifully, before his thoughts could lead him down another dead end of useless melancholy, the nurse called to him—a patient on the first floor wasn't feeling well. Carlisle went downstairs wondering, without bitterness so much as curiosity, how many more nights he would pass like this, sleepless and alone, before something changed.

* * *

In case you were curious: The hospital I mention in this chapter is real. What's now known as UPMC Mercy was the first Mercy Hospital in the world, and it was opened on January 1st, 1847 in Pittsburgh. (By searching Google, I also discovered that the hospital played a big role in combating Spanish Influenza during the epidemic in 1918…unintentional foreshadowing of Edward on my part). Also, just because this fact freaked me out, in 1700, there were about 600 million people in the _world_. By 1900, there were _1.5 billon_. So…whoa.


	28. Hunting

The following is a far fluffier chapter than the two that precede it—hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of the awesomeness that is "Twilight," and ONLY 29 DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON! ALMOST 28!

_2007_: Hunting

Bella's POV

Lots of families take trips together on weekends. Some people go to the beach, some people go camping, and some people, people like me anyway, venture into the woods with their vampire families and hunt wild game with just their hands and teeth. The first year of my immortal life had been…eventful, to say the least, but at least this had become a kind of routine I could count on: every Sunday, the entire Cullen family splits into groups (to avoid detection, and to give our prey a sporting chance) and goes hunting. While I'm not exactly the wild newborn that everyone expected me to be, the more I hunt, the more everybody else seems to relax. Edward and I will go with Nessie a couple times a week—sometimes Jacob comes too—but the whole family goes on Sunday. Usually, the woods around Forks are pretty much devoid of human life. But not always.

Near the end of September, Edward, Nessie and I were hunting with Carlisle and Esme when it happened. All of us noticed the smell at the same time; beside me, I felt Edward tense, and then he and Esme were each holding one of my arms.

"I'm okay," I managed, and then I shut my mouth because I was out of air. If I wanted to say anything else, I'd have to breathe, but if I did that, the chances were good I might break free and go tearing off in the direction of the smell of freshly spilled human blood. Not killing people is more important than talking, so I held my breath and held still.

"I'll go see what's happened," Carlisle said quietly before racing ahead of us into the forest. Nessie held my hand and sent me a comforting image while we waited: us, at home in the cottage, the two of us reading together. I smiled down at her—she really did help me keep my thirst under control.

"We should go," Edward muttered. Esme let go of my arm and he wrapped both his arms around me. "Bella?"

I shook my head—I wasn't enjoying standing here with my throat on fire, but if I was ever going to get desensitized to the smell of human blood, I needed to start sometime. Edward sighed, but he didn't argue. It was safer being exposed to blood like this, with two other vampires around to hold me back if necessary, than waiting for accidents to happen. We all sort of lived in fear of Charlie or Sue getting a paper cut while I was visiting.

Carlisle returned a moment later, looking serious. "It's two hikers. One of them slipped trying to get over a fallen tree, and the other tore up his leg trying to help his friend off the ledge they were climbing. They're too hurt to get out on their own, but they're both conscious, which complicates things."

He glanced at Edward when he said this, and I realized that the hikers being conscious meant that we'd have to pretend to be human if we wanted to help them. And by 'we,' I meant Carlisle and Edward, who, of the five of us, certainly appeared to be the strongest. (Never mind that Esme and I could have both carried both hikers back to town one handed).

"No," Edward said immediately. "Esme, can you—"

"Edward, I'm not exactly dressed for hiking," Esme said gently. This was true, since she was wearing a skirt—besides, if these were the kind of hikers that I'd seen when I worked at Newton's, they were going to be guys, probably big guys, and if they had any brains at all, they were going to get suspicious if a woman Esme's size helped carry them back to civilization.

"We'll run east," Esme said calmly. "Don't worry, we'll be careful."

I nodded—Esme would be careful to keep an eye of me, and I'd be careful not to change course to go after the hikers.

Edward sighed unhappily and looked at me. "Are you really okay?"

I nodded more vigorously and pushed him lightly toward Carlisle. Edward shook his head and kissed me on the forehead, Nessie too, and then our two groups took off running in opposite directions.

Five minutes later, we ran into a cougar, which I pounced on happily before Esme could get it—newborn speed really came in handy when I was thirsty, and right now my throat felt agonizingly dry. Soon after, we found some deer, and after the three of us had fed, Nessie asked if she could go swimming.

"I'm wearing my new bathing suit!" she said eagerly, pulling off her jacket to reveal the new blue two piece that Alice had picked out for her.

"I hear a creek pretty close by," Esme said, smiling at Nessie. "Can you tell where it is?"

Nessie frowned, then closed her eyes to concentrate on listening. A moment later, she opened them again. "That way!"

Esme and I easily kept up with her, but we stopped at the edge of the creek, which I was happy to see was only about a foot deep. Nessie can swim just fine—better than I could when I was human—but one thing I've learned about being a Mom so far is that just because a fear involving Nessie is irrational doesn't mean I can make it go away. I know that drowning isn't something I need to worry about with her, but Esme and I still sat down right beside the creek, while Nessie kicked off her shoes and jeans and started splashing around, trying to catch frogs, though it was probably too cold for them. It probably would have been too cold for a human kid to be swimming too, but Nessie was happy, despite the chilly fall air.

"Okay," I said, allowing myself a long overdue sigh of relief. "That…went okay."

"It went a lot better than okay, Bella," Esme said, squeezing my shoulder fondly. "Your control is wonderful."

I smiled—one of my favorite parts about being a vampire is that my family doesn't have to treat me like I'm made of glass anymore. Esme (and everyone other than Alice) used to always keep a careful distance from me, but now we can sit next to each other like normal (immortal) people when we talk.

"How long do you think it's going to take Carlisle and Edward to get those hikers back to town?" I wondered.

Esme sighed. "Hard to say. It's good that they're conscious, since that means they probably aren't too badly hurt, but I just hope they aren't lucid enough to realize that normal people don't go hiking in slacks and sport coats."

"Oh, yeah," I said, snorting with laughter—if I saw Edward or Carlisle in the woods, I'd think that they were sort of inappropriately dressed for a day on the trails. "We look even more suspicious though. How did Alice talk me into this outfit again?"

I was wearing a skirt too, with leggings underneath and a short-sleeved sweater, all this complimented by a silk scarf. Alice had tried to explain how fashionable scarves were now, but since I'm never cold anymore, it felt sort of weird to be wearing one.

"You look very nice," Esme said diplomatically, choosing not to comment on the persuasive tactics of Alice, which mostly involve expressions of deep horror and disappointment when I try to wear normal, and thus, to her mind, unfashionable clothes.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, watching Nessie play, before I managed to ask, "How long did it take before you stopped worrying you were dangerous, Esme?"

She sighed again. "Hmm. Well, there are still times when I worry—there was a bad moment at your eighteenth birthday party, for example," she said briefly. "But I suppose I was about two years into this life before I felt like I could go out on my own without risking hurting anyone."

"Okay," I said slowly—I was already basically able to do that. "But what if you suddenly smelled blood?"

"I suppose I try not to dwell on the possibility too much," Esme said, "but in that respect, I'm not sure I'll ever be completely safe. Most of us aren't. It took two hundred years for Carlisle to conquer his thirst, and that was in part through being around blood every day, feeling temptation and resisting it."

"I couldn't do that," I said immediately. "I mean, it's bad enough to smell it by accident. If I was always around it, I don't know how long…well, I don't think I'd be able to resist after a while."

"I don't know if I could either," Esme said thoughtfully. "It seems hard enough, just being a doctor and having to see so much suffering without having to suffer yourself. But it's always been worth it to Carlisle. As long as there's a chance that he can help someone, he wants to try."

I smiled—while watching Esme speak, I had a sudden idea of what I must look like when I talked about Edward. "When you first became a vampire, wasn't it hard, living with someone who always smelled like humans?"

"Carlisle changed his clothes every day before he came home from work," Esme said, chuckling at the memory. "And that did help to keep Edward and I from trying to attack him, but honestly, the most…difficult times were when we were hunting."

"What, you'd try to attack him then?" I said incredulously. Then I remembered what had happened the first time Edward and I went hunting, and the idea didn't sound so strange anymore.

Esme smiled ruefully. "When we go out in public and mingle with humans, we can pass for human. But hunting's different. When we're trying to satisfy out thirst, almost everything that's human about us gets stripped away in the time it takes to bring down our prey. All our human ideas about…propriety, for example, disappear. So when Edward was young, and still trying to come to terms with the change, he'd always snarl at Carlisle if he got too close while they were hunting, though after he'd fed, he'd be the same person he always was, and he'd try to keep his resentment under control. But when I was a newborn…" Esme cleared her throat, and I could tell she was amused, but sort of embarrassed too. "Well, I would always stare at Carlisle when we hunted. Literally _always_. It was…well, he was kind enough to pretend not to notice for the most part, and at least I didn't do anything worse."

I laughed. "You have to swear never to repeat this to Emmett, or anyone else I guess, but I've done worse."

That made Esme giggle. "My lips are sealed. Hunting as a newlywed is certainly…interesting."

"Very interesting," I agreed in a neutral tone as Nessie came to sit by us.

"What is?" she asked.

"Hunting," we told her, both of us thinking, _hunting with our husbands._


	29. Bachelor

Happy Sunday, and thanks to everyone for your reviews! They always really do make my day, so thank you so much! I've got one chapter for you tonight, and another that's almost finished that I hope to post tomorrow. The following two chapters are both about the preparations for one of Rosalie and Emmett's weddings, and how Carlisle and Esme each help them prepare for events like these. (I'm guessing they get married about once every decade…but I'm not really sure, that was just my guess and considering Rosalie, it may be a conservative estimate.:))

Hope everyone had a good weekend and I'll see you tomorrow—also, because I couldn't resist, I've got two Halloween stories on tap for next Saturday…:)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the creator of "Twilight," the following is purely for entertainment purposes, and ONLY 25 DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON!!!!!

_1961:_ Bachelor

Edward's POV

They'd been running for several hours when they finally arrived. Edward recalled the first time Rosalie and Emmett had gotten married, and how Emmett had been surprised when he'd suggested their throwing him a bachelor party at all—they couldn't eat, they couldn't drink, and Emmett had said he couldn't imagine either his adopted father or brother showing much interest in gambling or going anywhere with scantily clad girls. He'd been right about this, but together, Edward found that he and Carlisle could always come up with an activity that Emmett would like. This particular bachelor party appeared to be no exception: Emmett started grinning as soon as he saw the shapes moving in the snow up ahead.

"Polar bears?" Emmett shouted, looking surprised and delighted. Edward smirked—Emmett was never one to pass up the chance to hunt any kind of bear.

"The bachelor hunts first," Carlisle said, smiling. Emmett grinned and happily tackled the largest animal with a roar as it tried to rip him to shreds with its claws. Edward chuckled when he heard what he was thinking: _I love this. A bear's never going to get the best of me again._

Just then he noticed Jasper, who was staring at the animals with a sort of bemused expression. He'd never even seen snow until he'd met Alice, and now here he was, surrounded by it. _A decade ago, I never would have been able to imagine this_, he thought, glancing at Edward and shaking his head. It didn't take long for everyone to have their turn to hunt—Edward found that the seals in the area were more to his taste than the bears—and in just a few hours, they'd started to talk about running back home. After all, Emmett was getting married (yet again) in the morning.

"We've been meaning to do this for how many years now?" Edward wondered.

"Too many," Carlisle said. "Was polar bear as good as you'd hoped, Emmett?"

"Hell, bear's always good," Emmett said, grinning. "Grizzlies put up the best fight though, especially in spring."

"I think we missed the season that polar bears rouse themselves from hibernation," Edward said, rolling his eyes. "The next time you get married, we'll plan on coming back here to try the hunting then."

"Deal," Emmett said, trying to shove him into a nearby wall of ice. Emmett didn't need to be a mind-reader to know how Edward felt about Rosalie's love of a spectacle; this would be their _fourth_ wedding in as many decades of knowing each other, and though Edward was happy to see his brother happy, it still seemed a bit absurd that they were getting married _again_. Dodging the blow, Edward picked up a chunk of ice and threw it, and though Emmett easily avoided the attack, soon all four of them were hurling chunks of ice at each other. It was fun, Edward had to admit, to see even Carlisle acting his age—physical age anyway—and Jasper too had a rare smile on his face.

For some time, there was little sound but that of ice connecting with either the ground or vampires; both results produced a sound like two rocks grinding together. Edward smiled at the thought that even if they ran out of ice and switched to rocks, that wouldn't be uncomfortable, let alone painful, either. This was something they all appreciated about Emmett: he had a way of instigating things like this, which reminded everyone that though they spent most of their lives pretending to be human, they weren't, and being immortal wasn't all thirst and ennui. It could be fun too.

Eventually, the ice fight died down, and they all took a seat at the edge of a low cliff where they could see the ocean. It was summertime, and pieces of ice the size of cars or larger were falling from glaciers and into the sea with surprising regularity.

"So this is a vampire bachelor party," Jasper said thoughtfully. Edward found that he wasn't unpleasantly surprised by any means, but rather liked the novelty of being with other people, ostensibly to have a good time. Jasper hadn't had much fun in life, and he'd had even fewer chances to enjoy himself in death, at least in his first century of immortality.

"If you were expecting some kind of debauchery, sorry, but this is about as crazy as we get," Emmett said with a laugh. "Even if Dad weren't here, we'd still be pretty boring."

"No, this was fun," Jasper said. "I'd never tried polar bear before either."

"The last time Rose and Emmett got married, Kodiak bear was on the menu," Carlisle said with a smile.

Emmett laughed again. "Yeah, those were good. Not as tough as you might think to look at them, but _big_. Tasty too."

"I'm guessing that human bachelor parties are rather different," Edward said, seeing the direction Jasper's thoughts were taking.

Jasper smiled slightly now. "The only one I ever went to, right before I enlisted, mostly involved drinking excessive amounts of whiskey and sneaking into a neighbor's barn. Eventually, I fell out of the loft, and I would have broken my neck if I hadn't landed in a pile of hay."

Everyone laughed at this, and Edward could see how this story led to Emmett's question.

"Carlisle, what was the stupidest thing _you_ ever did before you got married? I'm just curious—I'm guessing Jasper hasn't fallen out of many hay lofts since he met Alice."

"Hmm, the very stupidest," Carlisle said slowly while Jasper tried to shove Emmett off the cliff. Edward chuckled when he saw the story taking shape in Carlisle's mind, and Carlisle smiled at him.

"Edward's heard this before, but when I was about eight or nine, my father and I lived fairly close to a family with a girl about my age. One day, during a break from my studies, I found her climbing another neighbor's apple tree, looking for early fruit. It was hard for her to climb, since she was wearing a dress, so I climbed up to help her, and managed to find a few apples. Then we climbed back down, and to thank me, she gave me a hug. After that, I asked her to marry me."

That made Emmett roar with laughter, and even Jasper looked amused.

"Does Esme know about this?" Emmett demanded, trying and failing to sound scandalized.

"She's forgiven me my indiscretion for the simple fact that not only were we not married or even acquainted yet, it happened more than two centuries before she was born," Carlisle said dryly. "And, I was _eight_. Anyway, I can't say that that was really the most foolish thing I've ever done, but at the time, it certainly seemed that way, once I made the mistake of telling my father about my proposal. Remember that this was in an age when it wasn't uncommon for people to get married in their teens. If we'd been a few years older, who knows how things might have turned out. The young lady certainly might have entertained different expectations of me."

Everyone chuckled again—it was impossible for any of them, Edward could see, to imagine Carlisle being married to anyone but Esme.

"What about you, Emmett?" Jasper asked.

"Hmm…I was going to say almost getting eaten by a bear," Emmett said after a moment's thought. Then he grinned. "But actually, that was probably the smartest thing I ever did. Otherwise, Rose might never have found me. Or she might have eaten me before a bear could."

Edward smiled at his father and his brothers; there was no question that marriage had improved all their lives, but he couldn't help but dismiss his family's confidence in how happy _he_ would be once he got married, someday. For Esme especially, it seemed to be a matter of _when_ as opposed to _if_ such a thing would ever happen. Edward felt that he'd long ceased to be bothered by the idea, but if it wasn't irritating anymore, it still seemed ridiculous. He was happy with the company of his family, and content to remain single for as long as he existed, a scenario he considered highly possible.

But it was fascinating to see how love had changed his family. Carlisle especially had been transformed when Esme had reentered his life, and even now, laughing and enjoying himself with his children, he was looking forward to getting home. Wherever Esme was, that was where he wanted to be; it was as simple as that. The day he'd met Esme, Carlisle had been abruptly ready and eager to give up the life of a bachelor—Edward wondered if it would be two hundred and fifty years, or ever, before he met someone that made him feel that way. As the only single person in the family, that thought was increasingly on his mind, but tonight at least, there was something to distract him from the question.

"Hey, thanks for the bachelor party, guys," Emmett said. "First one back to the house gets to pick where we have the next one!"

They all took off running, and Edward, to no one's surprise, won the race home. He wondered what tiger might taste like…


	30. Promise

Happy Tuesday and thanks for your reviews—ONLY 23 DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON!!! Have a good week and I'll see you Saturday. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are ONLY _23_ DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON!!!!!

_1961_: Promise

Rosalie's POV

Standing in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, Rosalie grinned at her reflection. She, Esme and Alice had gone shopping for her wedding dress weeks ago, but this was only the second time she'd actually tried it on; between selecting shoes and jewelry to match, the decorations for the wedding and the place where the ceremony would take place, she'd been distracted from the gown itself. Besides, Rosalie really felt like it was a special dress—it wasn't her first wedding, but still, she always felt attached to the dress she wore when she walked down the aisle to meet Emmett—and she'd wanted to wear it as little as possible before the day of the wedding.

"You look beautiful," Esme said, straightening Rosalie's veil over her hair before squeezing her shoulders from behind.

Rosalie laughed."You keep saying that, Esme. I know you're right, but haven't you made comments before about not wanting me to get a big head?"

"When you're a bride, that doesn't matter," Esme said firmly. "And you already have a big head, so it's too late to warn you about it."

Rosalie laughed and batted Esme's hands away—she wasn't normally one to be teased, but Esme could get away with things that other people couldn't. She and Emmett had once been the only people who Rosalie could ever be completely comfortable with. But now, she'd found a friend in Alice too, who Rosalie had quickly come to like more than she'd imagined possible when the small woman she'd first thought of as creepy had appeared with her even creepier husband nearly a decade ago.

This was the first wedding that she and Emmett had had since Alice and Jasper had arrived, and Rosalie had to admit that it was fun having more people involved. Never mind that she could see the future; Alice was a valuable acquisition as a sister for her fashion sense alone. And Emmett liked Jasper, which made it surprisingly easy for Rosalie to like him too. For the first time, Rosalie realized that she was honestly, thoroughly happy with all the people who were going to be at her wedding; even Edward, who she'd come to tolerate much better since Emmett had joined the family, and Carlisle too, who she was finally allowing to give her away at the wedding. This announcement had made Esme almost giddy with joy when Rosalie had first told her.

"Okay," Alice said, bursting into the room with an armload of flowers. "These are all the different flowers that are going to be a part of the arrangements in the church. Today, we need to pick out which ones you're going to have in your bouquet."

"No lilies," Rosalie said immediately. "They'll look nice in the arrangements, but they make me think of funerals."

"Me too," Alice agreed, tossing a large lily onto the bed.

"The hyacinth smell nice, but they're so small and fragile," Esme offered. "Maybe don't use those."

"Okay, no hyacinth in the bouquet," Rosalie said, and Alice tossed the small shoot of flowers away. Then all three of them were silent for a moment as they examined the blooms that had rested under the hyacinth: Day flowers.

_Day flowers_, Rosalie thought, suddenly annoyed. _Aren't those the symbol of mothers? Day flowers for a bride who can't ever have kids. Perfect._

"Rosalie—" Esme said quietly.

"Never mind," Rosalie said, plucking the blue Day flowers from Alice's hand and throwing them onto the other discarded blooms. "Next one."

The flower selection didn't take long: Rosalie chose orange blossoms, snowdrops, and red roses to compliment the white flowers that made up the bulk of her bouquet. But her cheerful mood had evaporated. Here she was, on the eve of another wedding, her family looking forward to it, and she felt…miserable.

_Day flowers_, Rosalie thought angrily. _Why didn't Esme take those out? She should know—_

"The rings you picked out are beautiful," Alice said abruptly. Rosalie turned to glare at her—the way Alice's visions still caught her off guard at times could be infuriating—but she was surprised to find Alice giving her a stern look. Alice, who was a head shorter, and who always seemed much younger, except at moments like this, glaring at _her_…since she'd obviously seen Rosalie about to snap at Esme. And over what? Stupid flowers?

It happened more than Rosalie liked to admit: she'd be about to say or do something foolish, and Alice would be able to divert her, if only momentarily. In this case at least, Rosalie appreciated the effort. It wasn't Esme's fault she was upset, and later she would have felt guilty for taking out her frustrations on her mother.

"I wish we could wear them all the time," Rosalie said quietly, looking down at her ring with slight distaste, though it was a welcome distraction at the moment. It was a beautiful gold band set with her favorite stones, but what was the point of having it if no one outside their family knew what it meant? In high school, for the sake of concealment, it could never be explained as anything more than an engagement ring. She loved Emmett, and Emmett loved her, but in Rosalie's eyes, part of being married was having something that told the whole world that. After the honeymoon was over, this new ring would spend most of its time gathering dust in her jewelry box. Just like the others.

"I know," Esme said gently, patting the sides of Rosalie's dress absently, smoothing out wrinkles human eyes wouldn't have seen. "You know, Carlisle and I don't always wear our wedding rings."

Rosalie winced inwardly. This, she realized, was something she should have noticed. Wait, but why _wouldn't_ they wear their rings? "Why not?" she demanded. "At least you two look old enough to actually be married!"

"I suppose it just doesn't mean the same to me as it does to you, Rose," Esme said gently. "Usually, I'll wear mine on a chain around my neck, and Carlisle will wear his to the hospital to keep the nurses at bay, but really, the rings just don't matter that much to either of us. What they symbolize—the promise of our wedding vows, and our love for each other—that's what's important. Not the symbol itself. Even without a ring, I could never lose sight of how I feel about Carlisle."

Rosalie thought about this for a moment as Alice quickly began to explain how she was going to do her hair, knowing full well that Rosalie wasn't listening. No matter how their feelings differed on the subject of wedding rings, she and Esme had this in common: the lingering regret that, despite being married to men they loved more than almost anything, a real wedding (or what Rosalie considered a real wedding), was impossible. Rosalie could never marry Emmett in a church packed with her friends and family; there would be no reception where they cut a wedding cake together. They would enjoy their honeymoon, as they always did, but nothing tangible would ever come of their union. They would never have children, and sometimes that reality made Rosalie so furious that she could barely speak, couldn't even tell Emmett what was wrong without releasing a tidal wave of vitriol at the unfairness of it all.

But today, when they were all so happy, on the surface at least, a rare impulse cautioning self restraint kept Rosalie from bringing up what was really bothering her, because she knew it bothered Esme just as badly if not more so. She would have done almost anything to give Carlisle children, children that were theirs, not just emotionally but biologically. But it would never happen, and Rosalie realized, with some surprise, that Esme's suffering upset her almost as much as her own. So they wouldn't talk about it—not today, anyway.

She restrained herself only with difficulty, but by the time Alice was done talking about hair, Rosalie was able to speak and smile naturally again. Alice gave her an encouraging smile, and the three of them continued to discuss wedding attire, the flowers, and where the honeymoon would be. Every few moments, Rosalie would glance down at the ring, one of the pair she and Emmett had chosen together. She knew from experience that at times, wedding rings could seem like a reminder of everything they couldn't have, of everything their lives together could never be. Usually though, her current wedding ring reminded her of the promise she and Emmett had made to each other: to love one another, forever. But she knew, as with Carlisle and Esme, that they didn't really need a ring for that.

* * *

In case you were curious: If you look up "Flower meanings" on Google, you'll get a lot of different results, many of them contradictory. Below are the meanings of the flowers mentioned in this story (culled from a couple different sites—no copyright infringement is intended):

-Day flowers are "the emblem of the mother." They're blue and they look sort of like orchids, so not really something you'd probably want in a bouquet, but still, pretty in a flower arrangement.

-Red roses=passionate love. (No surprise really).

-Orange blossoms=eternal love.

-Snowdrops=hope and consolation.

-Lilies are usually associated with death in the sense that their most common meaning is "purity," so in the context of funerals, "purification in death." (Oh Internet, you can be so educational).

Incidentally, I guess hyacinth symbolize "games and sports," so they're a good flower for Emmett. :)


	31. Trick

Happy (almost) Halloween! Tomorrow is my very favorite holiday (at least until it's over, at which time Christmas becomes my favorite holiday :)), so today's chapter and tomorrow's are Halloween-themed. About this chapter: I wonder if "Psycho" would have been playing in October of 1960—it was released in August, so I assumed that it was still in theaters by the time the Cullens go to see it, (and also that it was shown in drive-ins). :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, as opposed to yours truly, is the author "Twilight." Also, candy corn is awesome. (Not as awesome as chocolate, but still…pretty awesome).

_1960_: Trick

Emmett's POV

School had let out for the day, and Emmett and Rosalie had just stepped into the parking lot when they noticed the mess.

"Eww," Rosalie muttered distastefully. Then her eyes narrowed; every car in sight was dripping with bits of broken eggs. It was the day before Halloween, and while Emmett loved pranks in general, he wasn't looking forward to having to talk Rosalie out of ripping the head off some idiot high school student, assuming that her car had been egged as well, and that she was able to find the culprit.

"You'll notice that no one touched our cars," Alice said, appearing behind them. "And it's going to rain later tonight, so that should clean up the ones someone hit the east wall of the school with."

Edward, who'd had a study hall his final period, had already gone home, so of all the cars in the lot, the only clean ones were Rosalie's new Mustang and the little green Volkswagen Alice drove.

"What, did Jasper leave at lunch again today?" Rosalie asked.

"He's been having a hard time lately," Alice said with a frown. "The weather's been so warm this fall that it's hard to go anywhere without smelling human. When it starts to cool off and there's less danger of running into humans in the woods, he'll feel better."

"He definitely needs to stay inside the next couple nights then," Emmett said, smiling grimly.

"Halloween's supposed to be a great day for vampires," Rosalie grumbled. "Contrary to superstition though, we usually end up spending the whole day at home so we can avoid run-ins with greedy little kids looking for candy."

"Too bad, since we could scare them stupid," Emmett said, shaking his head.

"You know, there is a line between scaring people and killing them and drinking their blood," Alice offered. "Maybe we could—"

"Alice, don't give him any ideas," Rosalie said sharply.

"I was just going to say that maybe we should all go to a movie," Alice said brightly. "I already checked, and there's one called "Psycho" showing at eight."

"Is it scary?" Emmett asked. Rosalie had no patience for horror movies, but Emmett loved them—usually, they were hilarious, and watching humans watch them and freak out was even better.

"You won't think so, but we'll all have fun," Alice promised. "It's at the drive-in, so even Jasper's coming."

Emmett grinned at Rosalie, and she rolled her eyes. "Fine, we'll come too."

"See you in a bit, Alice," Emmett said as the three of them got into their cars and drove away. He didn't really care about driving—running was much better, so usually Rosalie took the wheel. After a few moments, her expression turned smug as she watched the road.

"What?" Emmett wondered, sliding across the seat to put his arm around her—she pretended to slap his hand away, but then she settled back against his shoulder.

"No one egged our car," she said simply. "Now we don't have to worry about cleaning it, or trying not to kill the guilty party."

"Maybe it's a survival instinct kind of thing," Emmett wondered. "Nobody knows what we are, but everybody knows not to mess with the Cullens. Maybe they can sense that it would be especially dumb to piss off a vampire so close to Halloween."

Rosalie laughed. "You're right, they knew I'd tear their heads off if they did anything to this beauty. Though I have to admit, you look scarier than I do. Maybe I should work on being more intimidating."

"I love it when you get scary," Emmett murmured. Then they pulled over for a while.

* * *

They all went to the movie that night—Edward even rode along with Carlisle and Esme, with the strict understanding that they wouldn't do anything more intimate than hold hands.

"I can hardly believe you're here," Edward said, staring at Esme from the back seat. Their car was beside Rosalie's and Emmett's, and though they all had their windows rolled up, it was easy to hear each other speak. They didn't even need speakers like those mounted on other cars to hear the movie up on the screen.

"Alice was very convincing," Esme said with a smile. "She said this movie's going to be a classic. Besides, it's nice when all of us can do something together."

"But you don't even like scary movies," Rosalie pointed out.

Esme wrinkled her nose. "Well, this one's all right so far. But usually they're so gory and violent—"

"But you're a _vampire_," Emmett laughed. "You do gory, violent things to your dinner all the time."

"That's different," Esme chuckled. "When we hunt, that's only to sustain ourselves—it's more like a nature film than a horror movie. Honestly, what's the appeal of a film where people just go around killing each other?"

"I think humans find it comforting," Edward said dryly. "No matter how unpleasant life gets, people can usually count on the fact that they won't die like the people in scary movies do."

Emmett laughed again. "Come on, this stuff is so fake! Does anyone really find this scary?"

"People who aren't vampires seem to," Jasper said. With the windows of the car rolled up, he seemed almost relaxed as he sat beside Alice, only barely able to smell the humans all around them. But he could still feel their emotions. "This entire lot's teeming with fear and lust in equal measure."

"The lustful people need to watch the movie," Rosalie said as Emmett leaned down to kiss her, but then she laughed and kissed him anyway. He grinned against her lips as someone on the screen began to scream.

"At least this isn't a vampire movie," they heard Esme say.

Carlisle chuckled. "Those certainly run the gamut from amusing to insufferable. But we may be a bit biased. Werewolves probably don't like werewolf movies either."

"Hey," Rosalie whispered, pulling something out of her coat pocket and handing it to him. Emmett blinked—she'd given him a pair of wax fangs, the tips tinted with red food coloring.

"It's dark enough that no humans will see you," Rosalie whispered. "Get out really quick, before Edward can hear us thinking about this and go jump on the hood of Carlisle and Esme's car."

Emmett grinned. "Be right back," he promised. He doubted he'd even startle them, and he wasn't interested in scaring his parents, but it would be great to get a jump on the family mind-reader. Maybe he hadn't been listening to Rose—Edward usually tried to ignore her thoughts—and maybe he wasn't listening to Emmett's now…

It took less than a second for him to think this, stick the wax fangs in his mouth, slip out of the driver's side door and hop onto the front of the adjacent car. Emmett bared his teeth…and then groaned. Edward wasn't in the car anymore, and Carlisle and Esme were kissing, enthusiastically. After a couple of seconds, they broke apart, glanced at Emmett, and then burst out laughing at his sheepish expression.

"Get back in the car before anyone sees you, Emmett," Esme giggled. Emmett laughed in spite of himself and shot a rude gesture Edward's way—he was sitting with Alice and Jasper now—before sliding back into the car next to Rosalie.

"They got me," he explained.

"Sorry," Rosalie muttered. "I guess he heard me."

"I'm fast, but he's faster," Emmett said with a shrug. "Tonight's devil's night anyway—he was probably expecting we'd try to scare him."

"Next year, stick to egging things, Emmett," Edward advised.

_Damn! He must have seen me sneak out during fifth period_, Emmett thought. "Hey, I only threw a carton's worth today," Emmett insisted. "And I threw mine at the side of the school, not cars—eggs take the paint off. The ones in the parking lot were the work of imitators."

"Emmett…" Carlisle started, but he trailed off helplessly, as if he worried he'd only sound amused if he said anything else.

Emmett grinned and put his arm around Rosalie. "Don't worry, no more pranks," he said. _Until next year anyway._


	32. Treat

Once again, Happy Halloween! Here's another story inspired by one of those ideas that occur to me and then cause me to nearly suffocate with laughter. (I don't know that it's really that funny, but as you can probably guess from the last chapter, I find the idea of vampires _pretending_ to be vampires just hysterical somehow :)). Hope you enjoy, and I'll see you next week—OH MY GOSH, TOMORROW THERE WILL ONLY BE 18 DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON!!!!!

_1982_: Treat

Alice's POV

"Is this particular shade of lipstick absolutely necessary?" Esme wondered, sounding faintly desperate. "Really, Alice—"

"You look _perfect_ now," Alice announced proudly, standing back to examine her handiwork. They'd been living in Kohler for about a year now, but tonight was the first time that Carlisle and Esme would be going out in public together here in town. Several of the more senior doctors had all but insisted that Carlisle put in an appearance at the hospital Halloween Party, and they'd expressed an eagerness to finally meet Mrs. Cullen too. Esme had thought the party sounded like fun, at least until Alice insisted on choosing hers and Carlisle's costumes. Now, Alice grinned at her mother, dressed as she was in a low-cut black and red dress that trailed nearly to the floor, her hair piled high in an artful arrangement, and a pair of plastic fangs in her mouth. Esme was somehow managing to simultaneously look entertained and dismayed.

"Alice, I'm going to ask you one last time: are you really sure this is a good idea? Because I'm pretty sure I look ridiculous…and conspicuous."

"Esme, you look great!" Alice gushed, dancing around her and examining all the details of the outfit: her shoes were high-heeled, black, and pointy. Her nails were painted black, with a single spot of red on each, shaped liked a drop of blood, and her hair, always a warm caramel color, looked almost fiery under the red hood attached to the cape she wore over her dress.

"I certainly am…in character," Esme allowed, unable to suppress her smile any longer, "but I can't help but think that the others are going to object to our going out like this. It isn't exactly the sort of behavior that furthers the cause of concealment."

"Don't worry, we'll let them see you two before you leave," Alice promised. "I'll go check on Carlisle and then we can all go downstairs."

Esme nodded, which made her silver earrings, shaped like tiny bats, sway slowly back and forth. Alice stifled a giggle when she noticed this, and then dashed out of the room.

While Esme had gotten ready in Alice's room, Carlisle had dressed in their bedroom. Alice knocked on the door and waited.

"Come in," Carlisle called, and Alice bit her lip to keep from laughing—Carlisle sounded like he was stifling a sigh only with difficulty.

When she saw him, Alice could see why. As with Esme, the costume fit him perfectly, and it suited him in an odd way—Alice thought that even if her parents hadn't been real vampires, they would have made very stylish fake ones.

"You…look…excellent!" Alice cried, springing forward to straighten the high collar of the red-lined satin cape he wore.

Carlisle adjusted his plastic fangs, which made his pained smile seem rather less fiendish. "Alice, please realize that we're only doing this because we love you very much."

"And I promise not to take advantage of that fact again, at least until you have another costume party to attend," Alice said, grabbing his wrist to straighten his cufflinks: tiny silver bats that matched Esme's earrings. His black suit was made of the same fabric as Esme's dress too, and Alice could hardly wait to see the two of them together, or to see her sibling's reaction to the outfits.

"All right, you're ready," Alice declared, smoothing down the shoulders of his cape one last time. "Come and see Esme."

Carlisle followed her down the hall, chuckling when she began to dance from foot to foot with excitement outside her bedroom door.

"Can we come in?" Alice called eagerly.

Esme laughed. "Don't you see that happening now?"

Alice smiled and checked, scanning the visions at the edges of her consciousness—she avoided those that involved the other Cullens, out of a desire to make their reactions to her scheme a rare surprise. When she'd seen what would happen next between Carlisle and Esme, Alice grinned and opened the door.

As soon as they saw each other, both her parents laughed.

"Okay, maybe this will be fun," Esme said, moving gracefully over to Carlisle despite the height of her shoes. (Alice doubted that she'd ever worn anything to equal her current attire in life). Then Carlisle kissed her lightly, somehow managing not to smear her blood red lipstick.

"What a lovely dress, my ravishing undead queen," Carlisle said, his voice deep and intense, and Esme leaned her head against his chest, shaking with helpless laughter.

Alice grinned again—_they_ were enjoying themselves at least. But now it was time to see if their other children approved of their outlandish costumes.

"Let's go show the others," Alice said, hurrying through the open door. "I'll go first and call you down in a minute."

It was almost impossible to resist the urge to peek and see what was going to happen, but Alice forced herself to wait—in seconds, she'd joined the others in the living room and seated herself on the sofa beside Jasper. Edward looked at her curiously—she was thinking about her shoe collection with desperate concentration.

"So what's the big surprise?" Jasper asked as she leaned back against him. Alice winked, but forced herself to block Edward, to think only of shoes—

"Okay, you can come downstairs now," Alice called cheerfully. She really had no idea what was going to happen next, a sensation that was oddly exhilarating. Suddenly, Edward groaned, but to Alice's delight, she saw that he was grinning—and then Carlisle and Esme made their way down the stairs, the long cloaks they wore making it almost look like they were the vampires of myth that could turn to mist or fog.

The second he saw them, Emmett's booming laughter filled the room. Rosalie's mouth fell open, and suddenly she was laughing too, leaning against Emmett and shutting her eyes to stop the flow of tears of mirth, though there weren't any; Alice found she too kept up that human gesture almost unconsciously when she was laughing. Jasper was the real test though, and he turned out to be the best surprise of all. He almost never laughed, and seeing him having to cover his mouth to keep from laughing as loudly as Emmett had was priceless.

"I think we both expected a bit more opposition than this," Carlisle said, laughing as he glanced at Esme, who was giggling again.

"You should definitely go like that," Rosalie said, wiping her dry eyes needlessly.

"Do it," Emmett agreed. "You look _hilarious_."

"You don't think it's a bad idea as far as keeping a low profile is concerned?" Alice wondered, glancing between Edward and her husband. "Just so you know, I don't see any humans becoming suspicious after seeing them like this, but I thought we should show you so you wouldn't worry about what people will think—or feel. My original idea was to arrange costumes so over the top that no one would suspect the truth."

"I think your strategy will work perfectly," Edward said thoughtfully. "_Real_ vampires wouldn't dress up like vampires and then go to a party looking that way, would they? Even the most suspicious human wouldn't consider such a far-fetched possibility."

"It's the perfect costume really," Jasper confirmed, smiling at her.

Alice kissed him on the cheek and whispered, "Want to borrow the outfits for next year's Halloween Dance at school?"

Jasper shuddered slightly, but then his face relaxed when he sensed she'd been kidding.

"We'll be back around midnight then," Carlisle promised.

"Or at least before dawn," Esme said in an eerie voice. "I wouldn't want my dashing vampire king to get caught out in the sun."

Alice smiled happily as everyone laughed—Jasper might be horrified by the idea now, but she'd decided: they were definitely going to dress up as vampires next Halloween.


	33. Dearest

Sorry for the late update—homework is such a joy—and thanks to everyone for your reviews! Since several people asked, I might just have to continue the previous chapter at some point. In the meantime though, please check my profile next weekend—by then, I'm hoping to have a link to some Twilight fanart I've done, including a sketch of Carlisle and Esme in their Halloween costumes. I like to draw, but between reading, writing and homework, I don't do it very often anymore…speaking of which, this chapter is about drawing (sort of) .

Hope your week's gotten off to a good start, and please review if you get the chance.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the creator of "Twilight," AND THERE ARE ONLY **TEN** DAYS UNTIL NEW MOON!

_1953_: Dearest

Jasper's POV

It was a cool, foggy morning, and the house was quiet now that it was nearly empty. They'd been living with the Cullens for a few months now, and today, the first day of a new semester, was Alice's first day of school. Carlisle and Esme had enrolled her as a niece who'd come to stay with them for a while, and this morning she'd practically raced out the door after kissing Jasper goodbye. He was glad to see her so excited, but he had a hard time relating to her enthusiasm; the very idea of spending hours and hours, every day, in a cramped building stuffed full of humans made his throat ache with thirst.

Everyone had agreed that, for safety's sake, Jasper wait a while before attempting school. This suited him just fine, but it was strange, being away from Alice. Now she and the others were at school, Carlisle was at work, and save for Esme, he was alone.

He sensed Esme's realization that he was at a loss for what to do, so it came as no surprise when she suggested he follow her out to her workshop.

"When you get bored with watching me work, you can always grab a book from the library or turn on the radio if you'd like," she said.

"I think Emmett also left a stack of board games on the kitchen table in case I get really desperate to occupy myself," Jasper said, recalling the towering pile of boxes with amusement. "What are you working on exactly?"  
Esme smiled and motioned to the open door. Jasper stepped inside and raised his eyebrows. It was…crowded inside. The workshop was really the original garage attached to the old house—the new, far larger garage had been erected when they moved in to hold the Cullens' extensive collection of cars. After that, Esme had taken to using the garage for the home repair and refinishing projects she undertook, and at the moment, it was full of furniture.

"Alice helped me find most of these," Esme explained. "In the past, I'd have to get lucky to find things like this. I'd look at yard sales or in thrift shops and hope to find something worth restoring. But Alice saw me driving up north to a shop that was going out of business, and all of these were in their back room, just waiting to be fixed up."

"They're certainly…old," Jasper said hesitantly. He wasn't sure what to say: the desks, chairs, tables and assorted wardrobes stunk of the warehouse they'd moldered in for years, but there were also traces of the food, drinks and tobacco consumed by humans that had been dead for decades, even centuries; there were smells of what the trunks and bureaus had contained, faint odors of ancient ink and paper, clothing and blankets that had long ago crumbled to dust; and most potent of all, the warm odor of wood, which suddenly reminded Jasper of the fireplace in his family's kitchen, the hearth he'd left behind nearly a century ago.

Esme laughed gently. "It used to surprise me that humans should be interested in antiques like these. I wondered if they'd pay a great deal of money for anything just as long as it was older than they were. But now I think it's more a case of people being nostalgic."  
"For an age they never saw?' Jasper wondered. "Some of these things remind me of my human life, but I can't imagine being attached to something for its age alone."

"Humans don't get to see time pass like we do," Esme said thoughtfully. "Of course, you know that better than I do, having been alive a lot longer. Anyway, I think things like this make people feel connected to times they've never seen, to their ancestors. Or who knows—maybe owning a hundred year old dresser makes humans feel young."

"But for us, I can see how nostalgia for our human lives would make these things interesting," Jasper said, smiling slightly at Esme's use of the word 'alive.' If she'd somehow survived throwing herself from that cliff all those years ago, Esme might have still been human even now, a fragile old woman instead of a powerful immortal. The same could be said for the others, had it not been for the events that had led to their deaths. But he and Carlisle were different—the eras they'd grown up in were long passed, and now there were only dusty objects like these left. Oddly enough however, Jasper found this rather comforting—at least there was _something_ left, some physical evidence of those lost times. He wondered how many such artifacts would survive until he was Carlisle's age…

"I think I'm beginning to see the appeal of antiques," Jasper said thoughtfully. "Is there anything older than I am in here?"

"This dresser," Esme said, patting the oak piece beside her, "is about two hundred years old, judging from its design and the shape it's in."

"I'm still young by comparison then," Jasper said with a smile. "Once you've repaired them, do you sell these things?"

"Usually," Esme said. "I can never bring myself to charge as much as they're supposedly worth though—antique dealers must thing I'm insane, but most antiques seem overpriced to me. And it isn't as though we need the money."

Jasper felt her looking at him, considering. "You could do something like this too, Jasper. If you'd like."

"The concept of having the time to do something I enjoy is still a bit foreign to me," Jaspers said with a shrug. "Who knows though, maybe once I try it, I'll find I enjoy school as much as Alice sees that she will."

"College certainly has its moments," Esme offered. "I look too old to try high school again, so I haven't experienced how it's changed over the years, but every time I've been to college, I've loved it. It's easier, I think—you have more control over what you study, and you don't have to be around humans quite as much."

They talked as Esme began to work on a small table that sat near her work bench. Jasper was impressed—the bulk of his existence had called for force as opposed to precision, and Carlisle's talents as a doctor and Esme's aptitude for detailed work like this came as a continual surprise. _First things first,_ he told himself. _Before anything else, I'll need to learn to sit in a class full of children without attacking any of them._

Esme glanced at him uncertainly, as if she'd been waiting to bring up a topic she wasn't sure he'd be comfortable with. "Is it difficult, being way from Alice?" she said quietly.

Jasper nodded—Esme didn't have his talent, but she was very perceptive just the same. "It's…not as bad as I'd expected," he said honestly. "But I'm still watching the clock rather compulsively. Not that I haven't been enjoying our conversation, it's just that…"

"I hated being home alone myself, at first," Esme acknowledged. "But having so much time was how I discovered some of the things I love to do. Can you think of any hobby you'd like to try?"

"Maybe I should try looking for a book," Jasper said half-heartedly. He wasn't interested in reading at the moment though—he wanted to do something with his hands, to make or alter something the way Esme did.

Just then, he could see that she'd thought of something. Jasper could feel her eagerness as she said, "Just a minute—I'll be right back."

She returned a few moments later with two books under her arm. "I don't know if this will interest you," she said with a tentative smile, "but as far as hobbies go, it's a good place to start."

Jasper took the first book she handed him and saw that it was a sketchbook. Inside were drawings of the house, trees, flowers, and other simple sketches, but further back, there were more detailed drawings of the other Cullens: Edward at the piano, Rosalie and Emmett sitting together by the window, and…

"Me and Alice," Jasper said, impressed by the likeness.

Esme smiled. "When I'm looking for inspiration, I always look to the people who are most dear to me first."

Jasper turned another page and found a drawing of Carlisle; he was reading a book, and smiling like he'd known that Esme was sketching him, which had almost certainly been the case.

"This one is more detailed than the others," Jasper observed, noting that while the lines in the other drawings had been more faint, the shading here dark and clearly showed everything, from the lines of Carlisle's face to the folds in the clothes he'd been wearing.

Esme handed Jasper another sketchbook with a smile; when he looked inside, he found that the pages were blank. "Here's one for you," she said. "Think it'll keep you out of trouble until school lets out?"

"Possibly," Jasper said, staring at the first blank page. Leaving Esme to her work, he took a pencil from a desk in the living room and sat down, wondering where to start. He guessed that having a perfect memory was certainly an advantage here, so it was only a matter of figuring out how to shape the right lines...

The day passed quickly after that, as Jasper was completely immersed in the task of trying to draw Alice.


	34. Worry

Hi again! Just so you know, the next several chapters are all set before, during, or following the events of "New Moon," AND CAN YOU BELIEVE IT'S ONLY 10 DAYS AWAY?!?!?! Anyway, I've got a few chapters ready in advance, so I'm going to try and post a chapter per day the week that "New Moon" opens—we'll see though, it just depends on how much time I have for typing and editing this weekend.

This first chapter takes place in Phoenix, after Bella's admitted to the hospital but before she wakes up. In the movie, it's mentioned that Charlie's there, but in the book, it doesn't say he is…but it doesn't say he definitely isn't (though it kind of implies that he isn't...I'm sort of taking liberties here, sorry), so I just assumed he was for the purpose of this chapter. :) Thanks for reading and see you Sunday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the creator of "Twilight," and if you can, watch her on Oprah on Friday! Seriously, I'm hoping I can catch it after class (but I bet it'll be on hulu and/or YouTube, so I'll probably just end up watching it online…)

_2005_: Worry

Charlie's POV

A nurse had asked him to stop pacing the hallway outside Bella's room, so Charlie wandered down to the vending machines and tried to work up some interest in eating or drinking something. He'd been here for hours, and she still wasn't awake. And she looked…well, like someone who'd fallen out of a window and broken several bones. He knew that Bella was possibly even clumsier than he was, but in this day and age, what kind of hotel was so unsafe that accidents like this could happen?

Renée had gone somewhere to get something to eat—under any other circumstances, it might have been a little awkward to see her so suddenly, but the state Bella was in had united them in anxiety. Dr. Cullen and Alice had gone with her to the restaurant, and Edward, to Charlie's irritation, was asleep in a chair in Bella's room. Renée seemed to be a lot more forgiving of the kid than he was—Edward certainly _appeared_ to feel guilty about his role in this whole mess, and he'd damn well better—but Charlie had decided when he heard the story of what had happened that no matter what kind of kid Edward Cullen might really be, good or bad, he was bad for Bella, and the sooner they broke up, the better. Charlie had never seen Bella act the way she had since meeting this guy, and a history of bad luck aside, she'd never been banged up this badly before. Sure, it wasn't like he'd actually pushed her out the window, and it was irrational to think anything like that…but on a gut level, Charlie felt that Edward might as well have.

He was sipping a Coke when the two Cullens and Renée returned.

"Is she awake yet?" Renée whispered, glancing at the door to Bella's room: inside, a nurse was checking on her, and Edward was awake and watching this.

"Not yet," Charlie said wearily—God, when was the last time he'd had a good night's sleep? "But the doctor came and talked to me a few minutes ago. Looks like she won't need any more blood transfusions."

Carlisle nodded—he'd told them that morning that this would probably be the case. "It won't be long before they release her then," he said easily, smiling at Renée's expression of almost tearful relief. Alice squeezed Renée's hand before moving back down the hallway.

"I'll go get Edward something from the cafeteria," she announced, and Charlie suppressed the urge to ask why Edward couldn't get his own damn food.

"We're so grateful that you were there when it happened, Carlisle," Renée said yet again, her voice shaking slightly as it always did when she thanked him. "If you hadn't—"

"I didn't do much," Carlisle insisted gently. "The paramedics were the real heroes."

"That's not what the doctor told me earlier," Charlie said, staring at Carlisle—under the fluorescent lights, he really looked only a few years older than his son. "She might have bled to death if you hadn't been there. So…thank you, Carlisle," he finished gruffly.

"I was glad I could help, Charlie," Carlisle said, shaking Charlie's offered hand—cold, as always—circulation problems, or so someone at Forks Hospital had told him once. Renée hugged Carlisle swiftly before going to sit with Bella again, and when Charlie heard her saying something to Edward, he motioned for Carlisle to follow him a few doors down.

"When she wakes up, she might still want to go live with her mom again," Charlie explained, trying not to let on how much her choice meant to him. "But if she comes back to Forks with me, I want you to know that I don't think she and Edward should keep dating. It's just…he seems like a good kid, but having something like this happen right after they get together just makes me…edgy."

Carlisle nodded sympathetically. "I understand, Charlie. I've talked to Esme about it, and we're worried too, but we also don't think we can ask them not to see each other. I don't know about Bella, but telling Edward not to do something just makes him more likely to dig in his heels. We're going to talk to him and explain how we feel about this, but beyond that, we think that just keeping an eye on the two of them might be best for now."

Charlie nodded, relieved by this suggestion—he hadn't been looking forward to another emotional confrontation with Bella. "Well, Bella's grounded if she comes back, and she'll have a curfew, so I'm hoping that limits the amount of trouble they can get into. Not that Edward's done anything wrong," he admitted grudgingly.

"Edward feels that he certainly shares the blame for this," Carlisle said seriously. "And you're right, there need to be consequences for this kind of behavior. But Esme and I both hope that as long as they're happy together, they'll be willing to endure a little over-protectiveness on the part of their parents for a while."

_Overprotective_? Charlie thought. _Hell, Bella's going to be lucky if I don't send a police escort after her the next time she goes out on a date._ But he nodded—the Cullens' plan of action made sense, though having never grounded Bella before, he decided to ask Renée about it before she went back to Florida…assuming Bella didn't go with her.

"I guess with five kids, you guys have had some practice with stuff like this," Charlie said.

Carlisle smiled. "You could say that." Then he paused. "Bella's a great kid, Charlie. I know it doesn't seem like it now, but we really think she and Edward are good for each other."

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, I'm having trouble believing that at the moment. You guys have had a lot more experience with teenagers than I have though, so maybe you've got the right idea. It's weird... I'm her father, but in the past week, I've felt like I barely know Bella at all."

"I think that's the story of every parent's life at some point, Charlie," Carlisle said kindly. "Especially at this age."

Charlie nodded; for now he felt better, but he was suddenly sure that even after Bella opened her eyes, he wasn't going to stop worrying about her and Edward Cullen any time soon.


	35. Strange

Hope everyone had a good weekend, and here now is this week's first update: in honor of "New Moon," I'm going to be updating every day this week, so I apologize in advance for the number of chapter update e-mails that people are going to be receiving, but hopefully the extra chapters will be worth it. :) This first one is a (surprisingly short ) Jacob chapter—the title's rather fitting I think, in the sense that I thought it would be an odd coincidence if this chapter ever happened…(also, I like the idea of Jacob being at least casually acquainted with the Cullens before growing close to Bella; this and the next chapter are sort of about light moments that Jacob and Bella might enjoy before the events of "New Moon," and the vampire and werewolf-related stress that enters their lives as a result ). Hope you enjoy and ONLY FOUR MORE DAYS!!! FOUR!!! IT'S SO EXCITING THAT I CAN BARELY ARTICULATE THE AWESOMENESS!!!!! FOUR DAYS!!!!!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," which is why she gets to go to the premiere of "New Moon" tomorrow—so awesome…

_2005_: Strange

Jacob's POV

Before he went to bed, Billy had asked me to run to the store to get some milk, but instead of staying in La Push, I drove up to Forks—I mean, it was just a few miles away, and it was a nice night for a drive—clear, for once. Besides, there was always the chance that I'd run into Bella, though I guess that was a little much to hope for at ten o'clock at night. And it wasn't like I was supposed to be driving alone yet either, but yet another growth spurt sure made me look _tall_ enough to drive, if not quite old enough. And hey, what with Billy being such good friends with Chief Swan, it's not like I'd get in a ton of trouble if I got caught…provided that Charlie was the one who stopped me instead of some other cop.

I made it into town okay, got the milk, and was about halfway back when I heard the telltale bang of a blown tire; instantly, I felt the right rear side of the car start to bump along unevenly. Cursing, I pulled over onto the shoulder of the road and sat still for a few seconds, considering my options. Calling Billy was out—never mind that he'd kill me if he knew, it wasn't like he'd be able to help me. Harry or Sue would probably come and pick me up, but again, their killing me was sort of a problem, and it wasn't like I had a cell phone anyway. It was pouring down rain, but it had been dry when I left, so I didn't have my raincoat, which kind of made walking an unattractive possibility. There was no umbrella in the car either, and I was wondering how I'd manage to see well enough to even get the tire off, let alone get it changed, when a car pulled up behind me.

"Crap," I muttered, imagining a cop's cruiser stopping to assist (and then arrest) me, so when I turned to look, I was surprised to see a black Mercedes.

"Whoa, an S55 AMG," I whispered, trying not to drool. Don't get me wrong, I like the Rabbit fine, and once it actually runs, I'll like it even better, and Billy's ancient sedan's okay, but the car behind me was the kind of vehicle I'd give up a limb for. Well, maybe not a whole limb, but at least some fingers or toes. Too bad car dealerships insist on people only paying with actual money.

I jumped out of the car and was soaked in about half a second, and then a man and a woman got out of the Mercedes—both had had the sense to wear rain coats, and the woman was holding an open umbrella. When they came up to me, I saw that the umbrella was actually big enough to cover all three of us, a fact which made me wish I'd waited in the damn car for another couple seconds. Oh well though, at least now I wasn't going to get even more drenched.

"Need a hand?" the man asked. "We saw the tire blow."

It took about half a second for me to realize who this guy must be—really pale, way too good looking, but older than the kids I'd seen at Bella's prom…this must be Dr. Cullen, and Mrs. Cullen was the one with the umbrella.

"Thanks," I said, grinning at the thought of what Billy's expression would look like if I ever told him who had helped me change a tire. "I was sort of wondering how I was going to hold onto the bolts in the rain."

While I grabbed the jack, Dr. Cullen went back to his car and dug a flashlight out of the trunk—it didn't seem like he was gone very long, and he was barely damp when he got back, which made me wish again that I'd worn a coat.

"I'm Jacob Black," I said to Mrs. Cullen while he was gone. "You guys are the Cullens, right?"

"That's us," she said with a smile. "Are you really old enough to be driving, Jacob?"

"Umm," I said, putting the jack together instead of looking at her. "Yes?"

Mrs. Cullen laughed. "Don't worry, we won't tell. Just be careful."

When Dr. Cullen got back, he asked his wife to hold the flashlight, and what with the light and the umbrella, it took us about a tenth of the time it would have taken me, working alone in the dark and the rain, to get the flat tire off and the spare one on. About five minutes after we'd started, we'd finished, and then the Cullens said goodnight and drove off. I thanked them about half a dozen times and then waved as they rode away, but as I started driving home again, I thought about what had just happened more carefully.

I guess it's just a stereotype, but I don't think of the people who own Mercedes as being the kind of people who ever have to fix their cars themselves; if you can afford an S55 AMG, then you can afford to have someone else fix it when something breaks. But Dr. Cullen had known what he was doing—actually, he'd moved faster than I had in changing the tire. So that was a little weird—and honestly, how many people would have stopped to help me? I could have been a murderous psycho for all the Cullens knew, but they'd stopped, it seemed like without thinking about how unsafe that could be: dark road, person they don't know, who's taller than both of them, and a car that's worth more than my house…Maybe none of these circumstances had occurred to them—and obviously I wasn't good car thief material, since I didn't even notice the strangeness of the situation until after it was over, but still, it was weird.

The whole thing was kind of confusing, but not in a bad way exactly—it was sort of nice to feel like I was right, that the stuff Billy thought about the Cullens were just stupid superstitions. But how _could_ he believe those stories? Yeah, the Cullens were weird, their kids too, but why hadn't the stories died out by now? I mean, the second you talked to them, you got the feeling that they were really nice—maybe a little unnerving, because of how they looked, but not definitely sinister. They were just a nice family…who didn't look or act the way normal people did. I decided right then that I wasn't going to tell Billy what had happened, and not just because he would have taken away my keys and grounded me for a week. (With any luck, he'd slept through my trip to Forks anyway). As much as I was grateful to the Cullens for helping me, and as much as I disagreed with Billy's insane ideas about them, I had to admit…they did seem a little strange.


	36. Influence

Happy Monday, everyone, and thanks for your wonderful reviews! Here's a rather long chapter; I imagined this as being the sort of episode that might have occurred in the idyllic summer Bella alludes to at the beginning of "New Moon"…THREE DAYS!!!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and Gaston Leroux is the author of "The Phantom of the Opera," which I quote a couple times in this chapter. (Maybe it's just because I have "New Moon" on the brain, but I just finished reading the latter book, and it seemed like the kind of story that would really resonate with Edward, but not in a way that would be at all desirable to Bella).

_2005_: Influence

Bella's POV

Alice is, without a doubt, both one of the nicest and most devious people I have ever met. About a week before the end of summer vacation, she decided that we needed to go back-to-school shopping—at least, I did, since Alice has about as many clothes as a small department store. Of course, knowing that I consider hours of being made to look at shoes and clothing a form of torture that I do my best to avoid, Edward would be coming with us. I was sort of appeased by this promise on Alice's part, since though I didn't want him to have to suffer too, with Edward along, the combined force of his and my disinterest in fashion might steer Alice away from any really ambitious shopping plans. Unfortunately, (for what I saw as my chances of actually getting to make the trip), Alice wanted to go to Seattle, and after a drive of that length, she thought I'd be tired, so she decided we should spend the night, never mind that the fragile human in question didn't mind sleeping in the car.

"What makes you think that Charlie's going to let me go?" I said skeptically. Much as he likes Alice, I couldn't believe that Charlie was going to be thrilled with her being mine and Edward's only chaperone on an overnight trip. In fact, I was fairly certain he'd be freaked out by the very suggestion.

Alice smiled serenely. "Just tell him about it tonight—he'd rather hear it from you than from Edward, and he'll happy you told him a week in advance. Trust me."

So, much to Alice's delight, I did what she told me, eventually. Edward could tell that I actually wanted to go to Seattle, if only to get a few new books, but it seemed like he was trying not to laugh when he went to say goodbye to Charlie a few hours after I'd talked to Alice.

"See you tomorrow, Edward," Charlie called without looking up from the TV—much to my relief, over the past few months, Charlie's thinly veiled suspicion had given way to cautious acceptance of Edward.

"Good night, Charlie," he called as he started out the door, but then he stopped, as if he'd just remembered something. "Oh. Maybe you should ask him tonight, since we want to go next weekend."

"Ask me what?" Charlie said, turning to look at me.

I remembered Alice's words and sighed—she'd obviously briefed Edward on what to do in this situation. "Alice wants to go back-to-school shopping, so she and Edward and I were thinking of going to Seattle next weekend."

"That's a long day trip," Charlie said, frowning, and I fought the urge to sigh again.

"We were going to stay overnight," I said, trying to sound casual.

Just as I'd expected, Charlie's eyebrows shot up, and his face went sort of pink. I could tell he'd completely forgotten that Alice would be with us: all his brain was registering was "my daughter, Edward, hotel room, unsupervised." Not a good combination in Charlie's opinion.

"Carlisle and Esme were going to drive us," Edward put in before Charlie could get a word out. "We'd leave Saturday morning and get back early Sunday, if that's all right."

Okay, now I had to swallow a laugh—Charlie had been prepared to shoot down Alice's idea in no uncertain terms, but now that Edward had played the trump card of parental supervision, he didn't seem to know what to say.

"Oh," he managed finally. "Okay then."

Edward said goodnight again and left—I knew he'd be back in a few minutes, once he'd returned his car to the Cullens' huge garage beside their house in the woods, so in the meantime, I went upstairs to brush my teeth and put on pajamas. When I finished, I went downstairs to tell Charlie goodnight and found him on the kitchen phone, his back to the door. Not really wanting to eavesdrop, though I could guess who he'd called, I started to go back upstairs when I heard him say—

"Okay, I just wanted to make sure the two of you didn't mind. Thanks, Esme."

He said goodbye, and I think I managed to look fairly innocent when I stepped into the kitchen.

"Night, Dad," I said.

"Hang on," Charlie said, leaning against the counter. "I just talked to Mrs. Cullen, and she said that she and Carlisle are happy to have you come with them. She also said they'll keep an eye on you three, and I know they will, but…you know…"

Oh boy, Charlie was trying to breach the topic of safe sex, never mind that I was about a month away from my eighteenth birthday. He was probably thinking that though Edward's parents could watch us during the day, night was another story—too bad I couldn't reassure him with the knowledge that this was only true of parents who needed to sleep.

"Dad, I'll behave," I promised quickly. "I'll probably be sharing a room with Alice."

Charlie looked visibly relieved by this idea. "Right. Good. Night, kiddo."

Edward was chuckling quietly when I joined him in my room.

"I _cannot_ believe Alice," I said, but I was sort of giggling too as I climbed into bed and snuggled next to him, my quilt between us.

"I can," Edward said, smiling. "I honestly thought she'd told you they were coming, but in retrospect, I should have guessed she might want to trick Charlie like that."

"Well, he did say yes," I muttered, shaking my head at Alice's tactics. "He was going to say no, but he was so relieved to hear that Carlisle and Esme are going too that now he doesn't mind. At least, not as much—any alternative to the original plan was bound to seem better."

"We'll all be on our best behavior, me especially, and we'll have you back on Sunday in one piece," he told me quietly, kissing my forehead and laughing when I shivered. It was sort of ironic that though Edward spent every night in my bed, he never did anything that would have infuriated Charlie, minus the whole being in my bed thing. No, of the two of us, I was the more troublesome one, for all the good it did me; Edward was careful to keep me at arm's length when my erratic human hormones started to get the better of me.

* * *

The following Saturday was a typical warm and cloudy August day in Forks, and Charlie was already dressed for fishing when he came outside to wave as the five of us rode away in Carlisle's black Mercedes. He hadn't said anything about the upcoming trip all week long, but actually seeing Carlisle and Esme in the front seat seemed to help him relax. Having, to all appearances, raised five law-abiding kids sort of made them parenting gurus in his eyes, and I could see he would have a good time fishing today, pausing only occasionally to worry about me.

The drive to Seattle didn't seem to take long. I'd only known them a few months, but the Cullens already felt like my family. It wasn't just my relationship with Edward that helped me feel accepted: I was one of the few humans in the world who knew the truth about vampires, and that meant that whenever I talked to regular people, there were always things floating around in my head that I knew I could never, ever say. But with Edward's family, it was different. I never had to worry about letting anything slip in their company, never felt like I could accidently reveal a secret, since the secret in question was theirs. And to Edward's relief (and slight dismay) I wasn't like other humans, who usually felt that there was something off about the Cullens, something creepy. I loved being with them, which, to my mind, said a lot about my prospects of being a normal human in the future, but Edward didn't like to talk about that.

After checking into the hotel, Alice announced that the mall was our first stop. I reminded myself that I was a guest, that I'd wanted to come on this trip and that I was getting a free ride and a free hotel room, so I needed to be gracious about Alice's (I thought) overzealous shopping habits. Still, I was a little jealous when Carlisle and Edward slipped into a bookstore as Alice dragged Esme and I off to look at jeans.

Don't get me wrong—shopping with Alice is fun—but after about an hour or so of shopping with anyone, I start looking at my watch and wondering how much time can possibly be spent considering the merits of different colored shirts.

"Alice, why don't I take Bella to get something to eat and you can meet us at the bookstore?" Esme suggested at last. Alice, who was still contemplating two shirts that were the same style but slightly different shades of blue, looked up and grinned.

"Sounds good. After a break, we can try a few more places before we leave."

I tried not to groan as I followed Esme out of the store. "This is the third one we've been to and she thinks we need to try a few more?"

"Alice is very…dedicated when it comes to shopping," Esme said with a smile. "She and Rose once spent twelve hours in the Mall of America—I thought I was going to have to drag them out of there if I ever wanted to see them again."

I tried not to shudder at the thought of spending so many hours in a mall; Renée liked to shop, but jeez, not that much. (Maybe no one who was human had such superhuman shopping abilities). I actually was sort of hungry too, so we found the food court and I bought a big pretzel. Mentioning it to Edward was never a good idea, but as far as I was concerned, my days as a human were numbered, so I thought I should enjoy the occasional horrible junk food snack while I could.

"Is that…actually food?" Esme wondered, her tone polite but skeptical.

"I don't think there's any actual nutritional value, if that's what you mean," I said. "It tastes good though."

"Hmm," Esme said, shaking her head, but she didn't offer any further comment. While I ate, Esme examined the clothes I'd gotten so far: just a pair of jeans and a couple shirts, despite Alice's best efforts to get me to look at skirts and dresses. I couldn't help but glance around occasionally—if you go anywhere with a vampire, you get stared at, and a public place like this was no exception. Esme didn't go into town much in Forks, but when she did, she was careful to dress in ways that made her look older than she was—I'd noticed Carlisle did that too, in what I saw as a useless effort to blend in with regular people. But today, they'd both dressed in clothes that made them look their ages, and even in a crowded place like this, Esme was getting a lot of looks.

"Does it ever bother you?" I asked, without really thinking through what I wanted to know. "I mean, people always staring at you."

"You get used to it," Esme said easily. "Besides, you look very nice today. They might be looking at you too."

"Esme…" I said, rolling my eyes—it was such a mom thing to say, comparing me and my ordinariness with her supernatural beauty as if we were just about even. Esme laughed, and when I finished eating, we went to find Edward and Carlisle. I mean, _eventually_ we found them; first Esme went to look at the art and architecture books and I wandered around looking at novels. By the time Edward found me, I had my nose buried in a book, wondering if I should buy it, and he had a stack that was about a foot high.

"Something to do tonight," he explained. "For the sake of Charlie's peace of mind, you're sharing a room with Alice."

That was disappointing, but I _had_ sort of hinted to Charlie that this might happen.

As if she'd heard her name mentioned, Alice appeared with several shopping bags in her arms and smiled.

"Ready to go look at shoes?" she asked, and somehow I managed not to groan when I tried to calculate how long Alice could look at shoes. Apparently my break was over, so I paid for the books I'd picked out before letting Alice drag me to the next store.

* * *

After Alice was finally satisfied that we'd shopped enough for one afternoon, the rest of the day passed quickly: we went to an art exhibit, then Edward took me to dinner before we met the other Cullens to go see a play. (I didn't like their spending so much money on me, but maybe I could convince Alice to count this trip as my birthday present). It was really fun, more fun than I would have expected, just to do things that I couldn't do in Forks, and being with people who I didn't have any secrets from. _My future family,_ I told myself, and yet again, I was relieved that Edward couldn't read my mind—there were times that he'd only be angry if he could.

When we got back to the hotel, Carlisle and Esme wished us goodnight, and Alice and I went up to the room that we were going to share. Edward would have his own, and though I sighed at the thought of spending the night away from him, at least Charlie would be relieved when I told him about this part of the trip.

Alice swiped the card key and opened the door, and I immediately jumped—Jasper was sitting in a chair by the window.

"Hi," he said easily, and I felt myself relax, courtesy Jasper's unusual gift, then looked at Alice.

"Bella," she said, trying and failing to look guilty instead of amused, "I know you told Charlie that we'd be sharing a room, but—"

"I only said we'd _probably_ share," I said, starting to grin. "So I wasn't lying, and if I tell Charlie tomorrow that you and I had a good time tonight, that won't exactly be lying either."

"Edward's in 215," she said, handing me my bag, and I told them both goodnight before moving down the hall to Edward's room and knocking on the door—of course Alice had seen how I'd wanted to spend the evening, so she'd invited Jasper to drive down and stay with her. Usually the idea of being able to see the future seemed like more responsibility than I'd ever want to handle, but in cases like this, I could see how it might be fun.

Edward looked surprised but pleased when he opened the door for me.

"Alice," I said, by way of explanation, and he sighed.

"I'm happy to see you, but I feel a bit guilty," he said. "You had to pass Carlisle and Esme's room on the way here, but obviously they didn't try to stop you. Apparently my family supports the corruption of your youthful innocence."

I snorted with laughter at this. "You stay at my house every night and I haven't been corrupted yet, though it's not like I haven't been trying."

Edward shook his head at this, but he leaned down and kissed me without further protest. After a few seconds though, as was always the case when I became too interested in kissing him, Edward gently pulled away. I tried not to stagger as I sat down on the bed, and then I glanced at my bag, which contained my tooth brush and pajamas.

"Be right back," I promised.

A trip to the bathroom later, I had changed clothes and was actually starting to feel sleepy, which Edward naturally noticed though he hadn't seen me yawn.

"Tired?" he asked. "How many pairs of shoes did Alice talk you into buying again?"

"None, and you know it," I said, curling up under the sheets. "I really had a lot of fun today, but next time Alice says she wants to go shopping, I'll know to get a lot of sleep the night before. I had no idea how much energy I'd expend just walking around a mall."

"You did take a long time to fall asleep last night," Edward said thoughtfully, switching off the light and lying down next to me. "Any bad dreams?"

I closed my eyes, hoping that maybe the lie wouldn't show so clearly on my face if I wasn't looking at him. "No."

"Hmm," Edward said, but he didn't press me for details. The night before, I'd dreamt about Phoenix, and now I was sure he'd heard me say something that had reminded him of the ballet studio—my memories of the whole incident were mercifully sketchy, but Edward would always remember, with perfect clarity, what I'd looked like when he and the others had come to my rescue. Despite the pain I'd been in then, I knew now that it had probably been worse for Edward, seeing me hurt like that, than it had been for me, lying there and wondering if I was going to die. He'd hated feeling helpless, but even worse (for both of us) was his certainty that he'd been to blame, that just by being with me, he'd nearly brought about my death.

"_Would she not prefer to espouse death itself rather than that living corpse?_" Edward said quietly.

I stared at him. "What?"

"It's from "The Phantom of the Opera,"" he explained drily. "It's about a monster who falls in love with a woman. He nearly kills her, but then he lets her be with the man she loves and dies himself."

"I've read it," I said, trying not to sound uneasy—Renée had briefly been obsessed with opera years ago, so I'd read a few novels and plays in an effort to understand what exactly all the singing meant.

"I never had, until today," Edward said. "I read it while I was waiting for you in the bookstore, and there was one passage in particular that spoke to me."

I didn't say anything in response, but then I shut my eyes in irritation when he turned the light back on.

"You bought a copy?" I wondered—what was the point, when he had a photographic memory?

"It's this page," he said quietly, lifting the book off the top of the stack he'd piled on the floor beside the bed. Looking at the place his finger marked, I read,

"_Why had she toyed with the threatening catastrophe? Why toyed with the monster's heart? Why, in a final excess of pity, had she insisted on flinging, as a last sop to that demon's soul, her divine song:_

_Holy angel, in Heaven blessed,_

_My spirit longs with thee to rest_."

Okay, this was not the sort of thing I liked him to think about: how could he think that I wanted to be with him out of pity—that he was really a monster? He _was_ an angel…but I knew that if I tried to explain this, I'd only get tongue-tied, or possibly make myself cry, so instead I'd try to imitate his tone: interested, but sort of distant, like we were discussing the meaning of a book we'd both read but that we weren't particularly attached to.

"But the phantom…he was human. So isn't the moral of the story that humans should stay away from other humans?"

To my relief, this strategy worked: Edward actually laughed, a sound that never failed to make me almost dizzy with joy.

"I don't think that's what Leroux had in mind," he said, setting the book down and turning off the light again. "A family of humans, or even just human parents, wouldn't condone your sleeping in my room. I suppose they're a bad influence, allowing this to go on right under their noses."

"You won't hear me complaining," I said quietly, already starting to fall asleep. Tomorrow, we'd be back in my bed again, together just like this, and that very thought was enough to make me grin in the darkness. Edward began to hum my lullaby, and as he did, I couldn't help but think of how though he was no more a bad influence on me than his parents were, I was always trying, unsuccessfully, to be a bad influence on him. But as I closed my eyes, I consoled myself with the knowledge that I had plenty of the time, all the time I'd need, to convince Edward to see things my way, both when it came to changing me...and other things.

* * *

See you again tomorrow! :)


	37. Father

Happy Tuesday, everyone! For those of you who mentioned that the last chapter was sort of getting away from Carlisle/Esme, you are absolutely right--my only excuse is that I'm rereading "New Moon" right now, so I've sort of been imagining happy moments for Edward and Bella before they separate...(I've only got about two hundred pages left, so maybe I can finish tonight and watch "Twilight" tomorrow! Oh, this week is so much fun...:)) This next one is rather sad, but hope you enjoy it and thanks for all your great reviews—they always make my day :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie MeyerONLYTWODAYSUNTILNEWMOON!!!

_2005_: Father

Carlisle's POV

After what seemed like hours of discussion, they'd reluctantly reached an agreement. Edward's mind was made up, and Alice unhappily reported that she saw them leaving Forks, so that was what they were going to do. Tonight they would pack, Carlisle would call the hospital and inform them of the nonexistent job he'd been offered in L.A., and this time tomorrow, they would be gone.

"Edward, are you certain that this is for the best?" Carlisle said quietly. He'd asked this question repeatedly since Edward had announced his intention to leave (and his desire that the rest of the family relocate as well), but Carlisle was uncomfortably aware that he was holding out hope of Edward altering his plans at the last minute.

But his face was set, though his eyes were miserable, as he shook his head upon hearing this thought. "Tomorrow I'm going to tell her," Edward said flatly. "And then I'm leaving. I need all of you to do the same."

"Fine," Rosalie said smugly. "We'll be happy to help you overcome this ridiculous obsession of yours."

"Rosalie," Esme said sharply. "Don't."

Rosalie fell silent, actually looking slightly chagrined. Carlisle squeezed Esme's hand gently; she was easily the gentlest person he knew, but Esme was without question a mother through and through, and when one of her children was suffering, she wasn't going to tolerate anyone making light of the situation.

"We'll go get ready then," Alice said softly, standing up and leaving without a backward glance at Edward. She'd come back to collect hers and Jasper's things for the move—he'd left town the day before, but would wait for Alice before heading up to Denali. Jasper felt guilty at being the unwitting catalyst for this situation, but Edward didn't blame him. If anything, he was grateful for Jasper's failed attack, in the sense that it had reminded him of the danger they posed to Bella.

Carlisle sighed—he shared Alice's unhappiness, and agreed with her opinion that Edward was making a mistake, but no one had been able to change his mind. Rosalie alone was happy that they were leaving, but with Esme still looking at her sternly, she left the room with Emmett without a word.

"I'll go get packed," Edward muttered. "After school tomorrow, I'll take Bella for a walk. I'll tell her then."

Now it was Carlisle who felt Esme putting pressure on his fingers, and he wondered if he looked as desperate as he felt. For so many years, Edward had been the only member of their family without a mate, and though he hadn't always enjoyed living in the midst of three happy couples, Carlisle knew he'd never really felt that his solitude was something unpleasant—he'd never experienced any other state of being. But now he'd known love—it had changed him, it showed on his face every time he smiled. Now he was giving that up, and his anguish was such that Carlisle didn't know what Edward was going to do. It was clear that he loved Bella enough to endure leaving her, and hurting her as a result, and he would very probably break his own heart in the process. But after tomorrow, when there was no clear course of action ahead of him, what would Edward do? After he'd left Esme, he remembered—

"Son—" Carlisle began quietly, but Edward had heard his thoughts and was already moving toward the stairs.

"It is _not_ the same," they heard him whisper, his voice both despondent and defiant.

For a few moments, they stood together in the empty dining room, and then Esme moved to turn off the lights. Carlisle took her hand, and they moved up the stairs without speaking—around them, they could hear the sounds of their children swiftly gathering their belongings. Two moving trucks were coming in the morning, and everything would be ready, as it always was—decades of experience with moving at a moment's notice served them well.

No one was speaking much—they all felt sorry for Bella and Edward, and as a result, no one was going through the usual motions of at least pretending to be eager about a move. Carlisle suspected that even Rosalie pitied them deep down, somewhere beneath the layers of jealously and resentment she'd built up around her brother and the young human girl he'd grown to love in the past few months, but she would never admit it. If asked, Rosalie insisted that Edward was a fool for having ever put them in such danger, and Bella was at best an idiot and at worst suicidal for having anything to do with him. Carlisle wondered how much different Rose's reaction might have been had Bella been immortal; that at least would have removed her desperate desire for mortality from the equation.

"Rose is wrong," Carlisle murmured, shutting the bedroom door behind them as Esme began opening drawers and removing their contents. "Leaving isn't going to help Edward."

Esme looked at him, her expression sympathetic. "You're speaking from experience, aren't you?"

Carlisle ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "After knowing you for just a few hours, in ten years, I never forgot about you. Edward's far closer to Bella that I was to you when I left—I just wish I could convince him that he's making a mistake."

Esme moved away from the clothes she'd been dropping into a suitcase—her frantic packing revealed that she was as agitated as he was. "We can't alter his decision," she said, taking his hands. "But we can be there for him and try to help him as time goes on. Despite what Edward says, I don't believe that this is forever. It might be months, and it might be years before he returns to her, but he will come back—sooner rather than later, I hope."

Carlisle smiled faintly, but he still felt uneasy. "Now you're speaking from experience. It's certainly a reassuring thought, but it's also a bit provoking, knowing that this separation is both temporary and unnecessary."

"Why did you leave me?" Esme said gently, pulling him toward their bed until they were both seated on the edge.

Carlisle sighed. "Because it seemed like the necessary course of action at the time. I was afraid that I'd change you…that I was already half in love with you, and that I couldn't deny you anything, even if I told you the truth and you decided to give up your mortality for me. I told myself that you might be too young to understand what you were sacrificing, and that you'd have regrets when you began to see that this is really…forever. And for my part, I felt guilty simply contemplating taking your life away like that. So…I left."

"To protect me from you," Esme said, leaning her head against his shoulder. "That's what Edward feels he has to do too. He thinks that it's what's best for Bella, and though I wish he'd talk this through with her instead, he loves her so much that he'd rather live without her than risk her life again. Still, I suppose he can't help but think about what happened to me."

"He knows that in leaving, I almost lost you forever," Carlisle agreed, stroking her hair absently. "Edward's resigned to living without her, but I suppose I haven't made it easy for him by dwelling on the parallels between the two situations myself. It certainly seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but I'll always regret that you suffered so much for the choice I made."

"Your Edward's father, Carlisle. Of course you don't want him to have the same regrets you do, but he's right—Bella's situation isn't the same as mine was. For one thing, this is a completely different time—Charlie's not about to strong-arm Bella into marrying anyone. Besides, we need to keep reminding ourselves that it's Edward's choice. We'll just have to do our best to support him, come what may."

Carlisle smiled and kissed the top of her head. "You're right, of course. It's his life and his choice, and it won't help to worry about the ramifications of his actions now. That's something he'll have to discover for himself."

He had his arm around her, and Esme shifted slightly so she could look at him, her expression serious. "I don't blame you, you know. I never have, but you've always considered yourself one of the guilty parties in the outcome of my human life. That's what I'm afraid of for Edward—that he won't be able to forgive himself, and that it'll take that much longer to return to Bella, if he's afraid he's hurt her beyond reconciliation."

Carlisle hugged her tightly. "I'm very lucky that you still loved me when I found you again," he said. "It was more good fortune than I deserved."

Esme smiled. "Luck had nothing to do with it and you know it." Then her expression grew serious again. "I hope she _can_ wait for him. Humans are so fragile, and there are so many accidents in this world…"

Carlisle almost shivered at the thought of Bella's death. "She'll be all right," he said instead. "She's a sensible young woman, and once we leave Forks, there'll be far fewer dangers in her immediate vicinity."

They both knew they should be packing, but for a long time, they lay down on the bed without speaking. This would be their last night here—Carlisle didn't like to think the word 'forever'—but for how long?

"I know she isn't my daughter," Esme said at last. "Not yet anyway. But I wish we could say goodbye, and that I could tell her everything's going to be all right."

Carlisle leaned his forehead against the top of her head, trying and failing to forget his worries as the familiar scent of her surrounded him. "Me too. Other than Edward himself, I think we all feel like this is a mistake, except perhaps for Rose, and I can understand her objections even if I don't agree with them. Alice especially is feeling this. She's been seeing herself gaining a sister for months, and now she's losing one."

Esme sighed. "I wish she wouldn't feel guilty about this happening—she can't see _everything_."

Carlisle didn't say anything, but he guessed they were both wondering the same thing: what was Alice going to see in store for Bella tomorrow? Or all the days after that, until she and Edward were back together and their family was whole again?

"We'll see her again," Carlisle said firmly, sounding more certain than he felt.

Esme smiled sadly and kissed him. "I dare say we're going to be telling each other that a lot in the months to come. Thank you for saying it, even though you're not sure."

"Thank you for trying to believe me," Carlisle said, embracing her again. "I know I'll be reassured the next time you tell me that same thing, even if it's years before—"

He stopped. Carlisle didn't want to think about years; he remembered the part of his life between the time he'd met Esme and the time he'd changed her as a lonely, unsettled period that had only improved when he'd found Edward. But really, there was nothing he could do to stop his son, nothing he could say that would make him any less determined to do what he thought he had to to keep Bella safe. Carlisle was no longer exasperated with Edward's resolve, or anxious to overcome it. He was resigned to the inevitable.

"Let's start packing," he whispered at last. They kissed one more time, and then they began to gather their things; by morning, they were ready to leave, and it wasn't even noon when Carlisle drove away from Forks, Esme beside him, both trying not to think about what their son was about to do.


	38. Mother

Hi again, everyone! This is Lisa of the past writing on behalf of Lisa of the present. I'm writing because today, as you know, there is only ONE DAY until "New Moon," which means that the Lisa of the here and now is very probably borderline _catatonic_ with excitement, so this chapter was written well in advance of this week, as was the next one, both of which will be rather sad, but we all know things turn out okay, so keep that in mind as you read (and when, like present Lisa, you're crying in a movie theater somewhere TOMORROW AT MIDNIGHT when Edward leaves).

Also: sometime late next week, there will be a link to some "Twilight" fanart in my profile—I thought I'd have it up by now, but I've had technical difficulties with my new scanner, so I'm going to have to use my old one when I go home for Thanksgiving…

Thanks so much for your reviews, and as you know, TOMORROW!!! NEW MOON, TOMORROW AT MIDNIGHT, ONLY ONE MORE DAY!!!!!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the the author of "Twilight."

_2005_: Mother

Esme's POV

It had been weeks since she'd seen him last, and every day, Esme worried more and more about Edward. Carlisle's initial concerns about their son were something that they'd both been dwelling on increasingly since leaving Forks, but in the beginning at least, they'd been able to hope that things might improve with time. Now, months had passed, and if anything, Edward had gotten worse. When they'd last seen him (for he'd spent the bulk of his time away from Bella attempting to track Victoria), Jasper had noted that his emotional state had deteriorated, but Esme had known that without having to be told; just looking at Edward—his eyes dull, his expression lifeless—was enough to guess at the depths of his anguish.

Esme had been upset at first by the change in her son. She could understand his unhappiness, but the fact that he seemed to be literally grieving, as though he was really resolved to never see Bella again, had frightened her. She couldn't talk to him, he wouldn't talk to anyone, so she and Carlisle had comforted each other as best they could as they watched their son seem to drift away from them. His despair was hard enough to endure, even from the outside looking in, but Esme felt so sure that Edward and Bella would be together again that the longer it lasted, the more senseless their separation began to seem. Of course this was, she had to remind herself, a matter between Edward and Bella, though Bella might not know that at the moment. (Had she ever known how completely she'd changed Edward's life for the better?) Until they were reunited, Esme knew that all she could do was hope for the best; she was still upset, but she was determined to wait patiently, for fear of inadvertently pushing her son further away.

She was brooding about Edward, as she so often did lately, while sitting on the porch of Tanya's house. The whole family, save for Edward, were spending Cornell's spring break in Denali, but though Esme enjoyed the natural beauty here, her thoughts kept turning to their house in Ithaca. New York was beautiful in the spring, but today the forecast had been for rain, and Esme could imagine the garden they'd inherited from the previous owners greedily absorbing the water pouring down on the eager green shoots. With a sigh, she tried to focus on the scarf she was knitting—as a human, she'd never been much for sewing or crocheting, but as an immortal, fast, precise work came much more easily to her, and the clumsiness that had dogged her hands in life had been replaced by graceful and tireless fingers that never missed a stitch.

She heard Carlisle come in, and smiled in spite of her anxious thoughts. He'd spent the afternoon volunteering at a clinic that served hikers, for though both had been looking forward to a break from their routines in New York, when they'd arrived in Alaska and found themselves with nothing to do, no set schedule, they'd both sought out tasks keep themselves busy. Of course, it was easy to occupy their time when they were alone together, but in this house, which always seemed to be full of Tanya's family, they'd both wanted other activities to keep their worries about Edward at bay—too much alone time would only lead to activities that would be embarrassing for the rest of the inhabitants of the thin-walled old house.

"How was your day?" she said quietly.

"All right," he said, slipping noiselessly through the screen door. Then they looked at each other; worry was obvious on Carlisle's face, the dark circles beneath his eyes even more prominent than usual, and she heard him sigh as he examined her expression—she must look just as bad as he did.

"It was a long day," Carlisle amended, sitting down beside her on the porch swing and putting his arm around her. He glanced at the scarf and smiled. "That's a lovely color," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Now it was Esme's turn to sigh. "The truth is, I sort of choose it with Bella in mind."

Carlisle didn't say anything, but he leaned down and she turned her face to his. They kissed for a few moments, and when they separated, Esme was smiling.

"What?" he whispered.

"I just had a thought," she said, unbuttoning his coat and laying her head against the front of his shirt. "This isn't the first time that I've only felt all right when I'm with you, and it won't be the last. But hard times like these always seem to end eventually, thank goodness."

"We've been very lucky," Carlisle agreed. "I suppose it's unrealistic to hope that our family will always be happy, but times like this are still difficult to bear. As you said though, they're temporary too."

"But not temporary enough this time," Esme said sadly, remembering the look on Edward's face the last time she'd seen him. No, the end of this particular difficulty couldn't come fast enough for her taste.

"Have you heard from Alice today?" he asked quietly.

"No," Esme said, frowning. Alice had left while they'd been hunting a few days before, and they hadn't heard from her since, not even to tell them where she'd gone, which was unlike Alice. Jasper sensed, by judging the tenor of Rosalie's emotions, that she had an idea what was going on, but when asked, she'd denied it, so no one really knew what had precipitated Alice's disappearance.

Bella was involved, of that much Esme felt certain. But the exact cause of Alice's sudden departure (the only evidence of which was the absence of her and Carlisle's car), remained a mystery; so that day, everyone had gone about their usual business in a vain effort to pretend that nothing was wrong, that there was no reason to worry. Esme had tried Edward's cell phone several times throughout the day, but he wasn't answering—neither was Alice.

"I've tried calling," Carlisle murmured, his thoughts taking the same turn as hers. "Edward too."

"So have I," she whispered, and he hugged her closer. Esme closed her eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling his scent and wishing that one of them could tell the other that there was nothing to worry about, that things would be better tomorrow…but neither of them was able to say such a thing, and for a few minutes, they sat in silence, thinking.

"I'm sure it'll be okay," Esme managed at last, raising her head and smiling with difficulty. "After all, the things Alice sees are never certain—just because she was in a hurry doesn't necessarily mean that something bad has happened. And Edward sometimes goes days without answering his phone. We could hear from one or both of them any time now."

She guessed that Carlisle could see how difficult it was for her to say this, because he embraced her again and leaned his forehead against hers.

"Esme…" he whispered soothingly. "Like you said, it'll be all right."

"I really, really want to believe that," she said, swallowing a sob. She didn't exactly understand why she was so upset—she didn't _know_ that anything was wrong, she just _felt_ it on a gut level, and that fact disturbed her more than she wanted to say. "But it's…it isn't enough just to want them to be safe. If we only knew where they were then at least we might have a chance of helping them. But we don't, so we can't…and when they get home, they're both grounded for a month."

Carlisle chuckled at her feeble attempt at a joke, but then his smile faded when he saw that she was still trying not to cry.

"When they get home," he said seriously, "I'm going to lay down a rather serious edict about not worrying their mother like this in the future."

Esme smiled weakly. "Among other things, it's a mother's job to worry." She glanced down at the scarf, which had fallen onto the porch. "And to knit, I suppose, when it's either that or go out of my mind with anxiety."

"Bella's going to love her scarf," Carlisle said gently, and Esme smiled again, determined to believe that her future daughter was going to get to wear it soon.

It was beginning to rain, and it was nearly dark, so they went inside. Carlisle lit a fire in the living room, and they sat on the sofa closest to the fireplace and watched the progress of the little blaze in the semidarkness. Esme was just about to suggest they go upstairs—the house was, for once, empty, even of their hosts—when Jasper burst into the room, Rosalie and Emmett right behind him. Esme was about to ask what was wrong, but the question died on her lips; Jasper's face, which was always pale, was ashen, and his eyes were wild with desperation.

"Alice just called me," he said by way of explanation. Then he told them what she'd said, and that she'd called from a plane. So. There was no point in trying to go after them now. For a long time, Esme was immobile, unable to rouse herself from her seat beside Carlisle. He seemed equally shocked, listening to Jasper's story without interrupting, as if he'd been rendered incapable of speech. Esme felt that the same thing had happened to her—she was dimly aware that they were holding hands now, that she'd sought his hand unconsciously when she'd heard the news, because it didn't quite seem real yet. It was a nightmare, something that made her long for comfort, but it couldn't really be true: hadn't they been reassuring each other of the unlikelihood of a situation like this just a few minutes before? Now…this. Esme had been wishing, hoping for the best, and now, the worst had happened.


	39. Fear

Note that this chapter is about Edward's thoughts on his way to Volterra, so it probably goes without saying that it's rather sad…thanks again for all your reviews, and now, the author would like to take the liberty of being hysterical for a moment:

TONIGHT!!! IT'S TONIGHT!!!

SOEXCITEDICAN'TWAIT!!! NEW MOON!!!!!!!!!!!! :)!!!

OKAY, HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight" and ICAN'TBELIEVEIT'STONIGHTYAY!!!!!

_2005_: Fear

Edward's POV

In a few minutes, the plane would be landing in Italy. Edward was no longer concerned with the potential of being intercepted by Alice—even if she'd seen what he was doing, she would reach him too late now. Not getting caught before he could leave the country had been his only worry, but now that possible obstacle was no longer a cause for concern. There was absolutely nothing left to worry about anymore.

During the long flight, he'd thought of Bella almost constantly—there was no need to avoid it now, no reason to try and elude the agony of thinking of her, gone, when the pain would soon be over forever. He'd moved and spoken when it was absolutely necessary of course—his family's concealment still mattered, on some distant level of his consciousness anyway, but he had absolutely no interest in what the humans around him might think of his unnatural stillness, the silence he maintained effortlessly. And his face—he wondered vaguely what the expression on his face looked like; it was probably still a frozen look of shock, as it had been ever since he'd spoken to Jacob Black.

When Rosalie had told him what Alice had seen, his first impulse hadn't been to cry out, to rage and shout against the possibility of what she'd said; the only impulse left in him had been to ascertain that it was true. Once he'd done that, he'd felt nothing: all his grief, rage, and the last of the hope he'd had that she was all right after all had been replaced by an empty feeling that left room for nothing but the knowledge of what he needed to do next. Even now, he felt almost hollow—it was like he could only feel an echo of everything Bella had inspired in him up until then, when he'd loved her, decided to leave her, and how afraid he'd been of losing her, even though that was what keeping her mortal would ultimately mean. But this was too soon—he'd thought he had years, decades even, years in which she might have been happy, when she might have forgotten him and had a chance at a normal human life—assuming he hadn't broken down at last and gone back to her to grovel at her feet for ever having left her. He'd been foolish to forget how fragile humans were, Bella in particular.

Now that he'd lost her, Edward had nothing left but his memories of her, which were perfect and all the more agonizing for being crystal clear—and of course, he was aware of what his next step had to be. _Buy a ticket, get on a plane, go to the Volturri…the end_, he thought calmly. It was easy really, but the pain made time seem to pass slowly. The anguish he felt was just a symptom of the emptiness really—it reminded him that he had to hurry, to get to Volterra before anyone could stop him. Everything would be all right once he'd made the nothingness he felt now permanent, and in doing so, he'd get Bella back. If there _was_ something after death, Edward wanted to believe that what Carlisle said about that plane of existence was true, never mind that he'd once considered such a conviction naïve. Wherever Bella had gone, maybe he could make her happy if he followed her there. Maybe he would never have to lose her again.

In the midst of his more pressing thoughts, he considered how best to word his request to the Volturri, and what to do if they denied him…and then Edward thought of something else, almost unconsciously: a memory that had often come to mind since he'd met Bella. It was from before Carlisle and Esme had gotten married: the three of them had been coming home from a concert one night, and Esme was walking between them, holding one of Carlisle's and one of Edward's hands. She was in a relaxed, happy mood—this had been one of the first times she'd been out in public since the change, and her thirst hadn't troubled her as much as she'd feared it might—and Carlisle too had been delighted with her progress, her control.

Edward had watched them, pleased but wary—in these situations, there always came a moment when one of his parents realized that something more could be read into the casual contact between them: of course two friends might hold hands, but lovers did too. Both were conscious of their own desire to be more than friends, but they were careful not to hint at this too strongly in word or deed for fear of alienating the other. This particular night had been no different, and eventually they'd dropped each other's hands, but not before Edward had heard Carlisle thinking.

His father was watching Esme, looking at her and smiling, for the moment content with their life together, when suddenly his expression had grown bleak. The force of his thoughts had startled Edward, but at the time, he hadn't understood the cause of such intensity.

_I could so easily have been too late, _Carlisle had thought, squeezing Esme's hand without thinking. _A few minutes later and I would have lost her forever. What would I have done if I had found her dead? Even if I still had Edward, could I have lived without her? Possibly...but even for his sake, I wouldn't have wanted to._

Edward had nearly shuddered at the thought—_would_ Carlisle have really turned to self-destruction if he'd been unable to save the woman he loved? It was a chilling idea, and Edward had thought of the moment when Carlisle considered this possibility many times over the years. On an intellectual level, he'd understood his father's desperation: he loved Esme more than anything, and to come so close to making her immortal only to lose her might well have destroyed him. The force of Carlisle's thoughts at the very idea of having to live without her had made Edward realize the fear underneath, but for a long time, he hadn't been able to relate to such a sentiment—he hadn't completely understood the thought because he'd never known the feeling behind it.

What would it be like, he'd wondered, to fear something so much that if it happened, there would be no recovering from it? Edward had never thought he'd love anyone so completely that he'd be unable to live without them; that, like his father, the very notion of that loss would fill him with dread and the certainty that he wouldn't want to exist without her. For decades, Edward had wondered what it could feel like, to have someone that the loss of whom would make everything else about his existence irrelevant: someone without whom all sense of duty to his family, all hope, all fear would die.

And now he knew; there was really nothing left to be afraid of.


	40. Waiting

Happy Friday, and thank you so much for taking the time to review this week! SPOILER ALERT: NEW MOON WAS AWESOME!!!!!! (I guess that might not really be a spoiler though :)). This chapter is short, taking place while Bella, Edward and Alice are in Italy and the Cullens are waiting to hear from them—thus the title. :) I've got another chapter for tomorrow, and then two for Sunday, and then this week of updates will be complete! Hope everyone's enjoyed it; I plan on doing the same thing next year when "Eclipse" comes out in June! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of "Twilight," and if you've haven't seen it yet, GO SEE NEW MOON! GO RIGHT NOW IF YOU CAN, I'LL STILL BE HERE WHEN YOU GET BACK!!!

_2005_: Waiting

Jasper's POV

They were all in the living room of Tanya's house, sitting or standing in uneasy silence, watching the clock. Jasper knew exactly how many hours had passed since he'd last spoken to Alice, but he was desperate not to think about that—doing so made him feel imbalanced, as if he were about to explode. Rosalie was pacing on the other side of the room, and Jasper had to force his eyes away; the very sight of her made him want to let all of his fear and anger out in one wild, vicious snarl in her direction.

Of course, if Edward had been there, Jasper would have had the urge to attack him instead—_he_ was the reason Alice was in danger now, he'd started all this by leaving Forks. But then, it was really Bella who had been the cause of everything, but Jasper couldn't bring himself to blame the fragile girl he'd once come so close to killing. No, the problem was that there wasn't really a single person to censure for this mess, and now, when he was feeling so helpless, Jasper at least wanted someone to blame for it all, some villain whose role here would explain the tragedy that might soon happen in Italy, if it hadn't already.

In truth, the impulse to find fault with someone only stemmed from a desire to manage the situation: if he could have identified the most culpable party, then he wouldn't have felt so completely at a loss for what to do. As it was, the situation was far too convoluted to take comfort in the possibility of an easy solution; Edward would do as he saw fit, unless Alice and Bella could stop him in time, and the Volturri would do as their laws dictated. No, Jasper couldn't even hate _them_—he knew the laws were necessary—but today, the facade of order, of justice even, that the Italian coven had always represented before seemed inconsequential compared with what he had to lose: Alice, who was everything, without whom he knew he'd want to do what Edward had done.

Jasper shook his head; though that didn't clear away the thoughts he was so eager to avoid, he knew he needed to try to regulate his emotions before his panic could touch the others, who were on edge enough as it was. Tanya and her coven were keeping away from the house tonight—they hadn't wanted to intrude on what they considered a private grief, though Jasper hated to think that there might even now be cause for grief, that Alice and Bella could have followed Edward to Volterra, only to be too late to save him, and then—

_Breathe_, he told himself,_ breathe. Don't let them feel it too_. Desperate for some kind of distraction, he tried to focus on the feelings of the others. Rosalie was emanating fear and remorse, emotions that filled Jasper with cool satisfaction, but he quickly moved on to Emmett before his anger at his sister could get the best of him. Emmett shared his restless awareness of their inability to help, but he also felt sorry for everyone involved in this, even Rosalie, which Jasper found irritating under the circumstances. Though her guilt was genuine, Jasper sensed that Rosalie didn't exactly regret what she'd done—she wouldn't really begin to do that until there was really no hope left. If Edward and Alice were destroyed, _then_ she would be truly, inconsolably sorry. But now, what she felt was unease at the thought of the consequences of her actions: Rosalie was afraid, and Jasper knew her well enough to guess that she was terrified of what the others would think of her when the dust from this incident settled. She was frightened that Edward, Alice and Bella would die, but she was also scared that the others would hate her for that, and Rosalie couldn't bear the thought of her family's rejection.

Jasper shifted his attention to Carlisle and Esme then. They were sitting on the couch together, still in the same position he'd found them in when he'd come to tell them about Alice's call. Neither of them had said anything in some time, but Esme's expression of anguish spoke volumes—Jasper knew she would have been crying, if she'd had the tears—and Carlisle had his arm around her, his face equally bleak. Their feelings were almost identical: fear and desperation had struck both of them mute, though what was there to talk about anyway? But they were both determined too: neither of them, Jasper guessed, would allow themselves to believe that their very worst fears could be realized. These hours of uncertainty were bad enough, but they weren't about to start grieving, no matter how slim the chances of a favorable outcome were. In both of them, there was an almost defiant, though very faint, feeling of hope that things would be okay, that their children and the brave human girl trying to help them would get home safely.

But the feeling that dominated, and the one that really scared Jasper, was the uncertainty his parents felt when they contemplated life without two of their children. As long as they had each other, they could go on, they could continue to exist, but the life they'd had before this, the happy existence they'd enjoyed for decades would be ruined forever if no one returned from Volterra. This wasn't the worst of it, however: the way they were clinging to each other, like they couldn't bear to let go, was what made Jasper want to wince. He wanted to feel his arms around Alice like that; if—_when_ he saw her again, he was going to hold her just as tightly, so he could know she was safe, and so he would never have to endure this agony of waiting ever again.


	41. Homecoming

Just in case you missed my yelling about it yesterday, NEW MOON WAS SO AWESOME!!!!! Today's chapter basically deals with Emmett's thoughts on what led to Rosalie's part in Edward's journey to Italy (her motivations for telling him about Bella and feelings about the consequences—I always think about this when reading "New Moon" and "Eclipse," and for a while I didn't like Rosalie as a result, but the more I've thought about it, the more I tend to share the opinion I have Emmett express in this chapter). Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews this week—one day of updates left —and Happy Saturday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of Twilight AND CAN YOU BELIEVE HOW AWESOME NEW MOON IS?!?!?!?!

_2005_: Homecoming

Emmett's POV

They were on their way to the airport; Jasper was riding in Carlisle and Esme's car, so Emmett and Rosalie were alone.

"That idiot," Rosalie whispered.

"You've called him that a few times now," Emmett said lightly, wishing he could make her feel better. "Why not go with 'moron' for a while?"

He could tell she wasn't really listening. "I just can't believe he did this!" she said harshly. "He was really ready to die for that silly little—for Bella."

Emmett squeezed her shoulder. Rose was trying, really trying, to be more positive about Bella. She was eager to appease Edward (who she'd often wanted away from her without ever, Emmett knew, actually wishing him dead), but more than that, Rosalie was eager to make up for what she'd very nearly done to their family. Emmett could see that she was afraid of how the others felt about her role in this near disaster, but there were few circumstances in which being meek and apologetic was his wife's first instinct. When she got scared, Rosalie usually showed it by getting mad.

"He loves her," Emmett said quietly. He wasn't about to lecture her, but if Rose could at least acknowledge that much about Edward and Bella, then apologizing might be easier.

"After all those years alone, he falls for a human," Rosalie muttered, shaking her head.

"I was human when you found me," Emmett said gently, trying and failing not to grin.

Rosalie made a face. "That's…it's not…" and then she fell silent.

"Almost there," Emmett murmured, following Carlisle in pulling off the highway. Rosalie had let him drive for a change, and he'd been glad to do so—she was so upset that he'd worried she might destroy the car.

"I really am sorry," Rosalie said abruptly. "You know that, right?"

"I know," he said, smiling at her and pulling her across the seat to lean against him. "Come on, Rose. We all know you didn't want this to happen. Nobody's mad."

"Everyone is," Rosalie said miserably—Emmett could see that she was practically grinding her teeth to keep from crying. "Except you, but then you never are, even when I deserve it."

"Carlisle and Esme aren't either," he pointed out, and that was true. When the initial shock of Jasper's announcement about Alice and Bella's hasty journey had worn off, they'd seen Rose's genuine remorse and refrained from scolding her, had barely even seemed to register what she'd done—what the outcome of Edward's actions would be was all they'd been interested in, and after several hours of horrible uncertainty, most of which Rosalie had spent pacing, Alice had called again, and relief had seemed to fill the room like a physical presence, unfreezing everyone's limbs and making it possible to talk again, to think about what to do next. Now they were a few minutes from the airport, though the flight that Edward, Alice and Bella were on wouldn't be arriving for hours. But in all the time that had passed since this had started, Emmett hadn't heard their parents criticize Rose even once: fear for their son and daughter wasn't enough to turn them against another one of their children, and though Emmett was relieved by that fact, he wasn't especially surprised either.

"They should hate me," Rosalie whispered.

"But they don't," Emmett said firmly. "No one does. They know you screwed up, but even Edward will get over it. He'll see that you're really sorry."

"The worst part is that I wasn't at first," Rosalie said bitterly. "I mean, when Alice said Bella was dead, I actually _wanted_ to tell him—I mean, I thought he'd be upset, but not _suicidal_. I know he's been unhappy since he left her, but I really thought he was getting over it—that he was starting to see how ridiculous he'd been acting. Why wouldn't he? It wasn't safe, his being so close to her--why should he risk killing her and exposing all of us, or making himself miserable for something none of us can help? And Bella--why isn't she afraid of us like normal humans are? Why couldn't she see before, why couldn't _anyone_ see how bad she could be for him, and for the rest of us too? Her birthday party finally seemed to make him realize the potential for disaster, but then he really couldn't forget about her, even after all this time. I was afraid that something bad would happen because of Bella...and now I'm the one that caused it. All this because of an unremarkable little human girl!"

"He loves her, remember?" Emmett said patiently. "I know you didn't believe it before, Rose, but that's really how Edward feels. Bella loves him too—she almost _did_ die trying to save him. I think that proves how they feel about each other pretty much beyond a doubt."

Beside him, Rosalie sighed. "Our almost indestructible brother, saved by _Bella_, the most breakable human I've ever seen. I suppose for that alone, I can at least learn to be civil to her…nice even. If Edward loves her…then I'll get used to her somehow," Rosalie promised.

Emmett grinned and kissed her lightly—he knew she could see his pleased expression even in the dark interior of the car. It wasn't easy for Rose to say these things, but he could see that she was really going to make an effort to be kinder to Bella from now on, and Emmett was glad. He liked Bella, and since she's survived the whole mess in Italy, it looked like she was going to be sticking around permanently.

He knew that Rosalie almost never acted out of spite; when she did something like telling Edward what Alice had seen, it was usually out of insecurity. Rosalie envied Bella her mortality, but it also bothered her that her beauty had never, not even for a moment, had power over Edward. She'd never wanted him to love her the way Emmett did, but Edward's dismissive attitude toward her had injured her pride from the beginning of her immortality, and she'd never quite forgiven him for that. Thus her intense animosity toward Bella, who was all the more infuriating for wanting to give up the very thing that Rosalie would have given anything for: a human life.

It would take time, sure, but at least she was beginning to overcome her aversion to Edward's human girlfriend. Emmett would help her mend the rift with Edward, as he'd always tried to when they clashed, and like their parents, he would show her that he loved her no matter what. In a few hours, they'd be back in Forks, their family whole again, and Emmett guessed that the next time Edward and Bella were embroiled in some kind of catastrophe, everyone was going to make sure that they were there to help—even Rosalie.


	42. Relief

Happy Sunday! Here's the first of two chapters today—hope you enjoy it, and thanks for all your reviews!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, who is in fact awesome, is the author of "Twilight." I am but an author of "Twilight" fanfiction. :)

_2005_: Relief

Alice's POV

She'd called Jasper from the plane, telling him briefly what had happened and when they'd be back, but she'd known that he wouldn't really be at ease until they saw each other again, and neither would she. So when they finally stepped off the plane at Sea-Tac, her eyes immediately picked Jasper out of the crowd of humans waiting for their flight, and it felt like several minutes before they were able to stop gazing at each other gratefully. They followed the others out to their cars, barely noticing where they were headed, and it was only after Edward and Bella had gotten into Emmett and Rosalie's car and rode off that Esme turned to Alice and seized her in a fierce hug.

"I've already said this to Edward, but I'll tell you too: you are _not_ allowed to do anything like this ever again," she whispered.

Alice smiled. "Don't worry, Mom, I won't." She tapped the side of her head meaningfully. "I'll make sure. Although…"

Then she frowned—this time, she hadn't been able to prevent the miscommunications that had nearly proved fatal—in this situation, her visions had only made things worse.

Carlisle seemed to guess the reason for her expression. "Alice, we all know your visions aren't perfect. Don't worry about what happened this time—we're just glad you're all right."

Alice smiled happily and hugged him too, then returned to Jasper's side. On the ride back to Forks, she told them what had happened in Italy, knowing that she'd have to repeat the story to Emmett and Rosalie later, but she didn't really mind—Alice was just thankful to be alive to tell it. Carlisle didn't comment on Aro's various salutations and expressions of goodwill toward him, but the way his hands were gripping the steering wheel, his pale knuckles even whiter than ordinary from the force of his anger and determined restraint, told Alice all she needed to know about the state of that friendship, at least on Carlisle's side.

"So," Esme murmured, a soothing arm around his waist. "There's no choice now. Bella's going to become one of us."

"That's what I showed Aro," Alice agreed. "It's always been a possibility, but it's much more settled now. If it hadn't been such a sure thing, they wouldn't have let us go."

Jasper hugged her close. Alice knew that he realized no matter what she'd promised, she never would have left Edward and Bella to face the Volturri alone. And as it had turned out, Aro's trust in her visions (combined with his eagerness to, at some point, add hers and Edward's talents to his family) was what had saved them. Alice sighed and leaned against him, finally feeling calm for the first time in days, and beside her, she felt Jasper's tense posture relax as well.

"I'm sorry I lied," she whispered, so quietly that their parents wouldn't hear.

He kissed her gently in response. "It's all right. I never believed that you could keep such a promise anyway. Like Esme told you though—don't do that again."

"I won't," Alice said, "and that's a promise I have every intention of keeping." Closing her eyes briefly, she wished for a moment that she could sleep; of course she wasn't physically tired, but after the past few days, she rather envied Bella the ability to temporarily forget what they'd seen, what had almost happened to them, in merciful unconsciousness. In the front of the car, Esme was speaking quietly to Tanya on her cell phone, explaining that they were going back to Forks, and thanking her again for her family's hospitality when they'd all been half-crazed with worry.

"On the way back, Bella wouldn't go to sleep," Alice said thoughtfully. "I don't think she really believed that we're coming back to stay. It was like she thought we'd disappear if she nodded off."

"I can't imagine that Edward would try to leave again after all this," Carlisle said firmly. "I'll call the hospital as soon as we get back to Forks to see when I can start again."

"And I'll call the school," Esme promised, snapping her phone shut after saying goodbye to Tanya. "I'll tell them that L.A. just wasn't for me, and that we all decided to move back here. You and Edward can graduate when Bella does, Alice."

Alice nodded, cheered by this prospect. In spite of the danger they'd faced in the past twenty-four hours, Edward looked better, more animated with Bella at his side than he had in months. She could see now that they wouldn't separate again—a brief scan of the immediate future showed them together, happy, and safe. Well, relatively safe in Bella's case: there were still rather a lot of vampires who wanted her dead, or at least immortal.

"Bella's father isn't going to be thrilled about all this," Alice said, suddenly remembering poor Charlie. Then she frowned in distaste as another thought occurred to her. "And neither is Jacob Black or his friends."

She'd omitted this part of the story from her previous summaries of what had led to the frantic journey to Italy, but now she described the young werewolf she'd met in more detail.

"He's Bella's best friend?" Jasper said, sounding both amazed and a bit disgusted. "She really can't afford to stay human much longer, can she? Given the company she keeps, I'm surprised she's lasted as long as she has."

"Werewolves again," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "That's very interesting. And they've been protecting Forks?"

"They've been trying to cover the whole region," Alice allowed grudgingly—the danger that the young wolves had posed to Bella still bothered her. "But they've been watching Bella especially carefully, or at least they were until I showed up."

"We owe them then, for protecting Bella from Laurent," Esme said firmly, and Carlisle nodded.

"I doubt they'll let you get close enough to thank them," Alice said, remembering the whole attitude of Jacob Black with irritation—"leeches" indeed. "And you might not want to either. They smell terrible."

"We'll work on improving relations with the Quileutes as soon as we can," Carlisle said, obviously noticing how much dislike toward the pack Alice's words hinted at. "At least as far as Victoria's concerned, they are our allies."

"And it sounds as though they're Bella's friends," Esme said gently, glancing back at Alice, "no matter what they smell like."

Alice smiled slightly and nestled closer to Jasper. Really, the smell of the wolves was the least of the trouble, but now wasn't the time to worry about that. Later they could concern themselves with Bella's problematic new friends—tonight, everyone was going to enjoy the indescribable relief of knowing that they had all survived, and that they were all together again.


	43. Sister

And now, the week of happy shiny "New Moon" updates is complete! This chapter takes place after the vote in "New Moon;" I wondered what the Cullens might have talked about after Edward and Bella left, and how Rosalie might have reacted to the results of that meeting. Thanks so much to everyone for reviewing all this week, and I'll see you Thursday with a sequel to "Envy" (I'm finally getting back to more Carlisle/Esme centered stories, so thanks for waiting for those :)), and a Thanksgiving chapter (because I'm incapable of resisting the allure of holiday specials :)).

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the wonderful and talented author of "New Moon." (I own nothing but "Twilight" dolls ).

_2005_: Sister

Rosalie's POV

As soon as Edward left with Bella, everyone seemed to relax. A decision had finally been made, and now, in just a few months time, the human girl would be joining their family. Rosalie had found herself unexpectedly siding with Edward on the issue of Bella's mortality, but regardless of their wishes, they'd been overruled. This was upsetting, to say the least; never mind that the rest of the family supported changing Bella, the girl herself was maddeningly eager to end her life. It was frustrating, given Rosalie's newfound determination to tolerate Bella, that Bella herself was making this so difficult to accomplish.

"I'll be upstairs," Rosalie said to no one in particular, wondering how she'd occupy herself now that she'd finished unpacking, when she felt Esme take her hand.

"Rosalie," she said quietly, "wait a moment."

Rosalie turned, her mouth already open to defend herself against the long expected recriminations she thought she'd earned from her parents, so she was rather startled when Esme hugged her.

"I'm glad you told Bella the truth about how you feel," Esme said quietly. "I know you want her to understand the regrets she might feel after the change, and it's good of you to warn her. The rest of us might be a bit overeager, I'm afraid."

Rosalie snorted, but she appreciated what Esme had said and the gesture of love just the same; it was a relief to feel forgiven, though Rosalie wondered how much the rest of her family shared Esme's sentiments.

"I'm going to have a new sister soon whether I like it or not," she said as Esme drew away, "so I'm trying to be kinder to her, even if I don't understand her. Why not wait a few more years before going through with this?"

"You know that's too risky, Rose," Carlisle said gently. "The Volturri could wait a few years to come check on her, or they could wait just a few months. Or weeks."

"What do you think our chances are against them, assuming they do show up and initiate hostilities if Bella's still human?" Jasper asked, his years of combat experience suddenly coming to the fore. "Will we have a chance to negotiate, or—"

Alice was shaking her head. "I don't think they'd attack us without warning, but if they do decide that that's the best course of action, then they'll destroy us with very little preamble—we're technically in violation of the law, remember. As for fighting, there are way too many of them for us to handle, though Jane's ability alone could finish all of us. But I don't see them coming any time soon, so waiting for Bella to graduate is probably the safest thing to do."

"Waiting until she leaves for college would be even safer though," Rosalie argued. "If you see the Volturri coming, then yes, we could do it sooner, but waiting until fall would allow us to throw her parents off the trail for a little while longer."

"Only a few more months," Esme said sadly. "By Christmas, we'd need to give them a reason for her disappearance. I don't like it, Rose, but I can't see the sense of delaying the inevitable."

"First things first, however," Carlisle said, rubbing Esme's shoulder absently—he looked unhappy but resigned. "I'll stock up on morphine in the next couple weeks so that everything's ready when the time comes."

"It doesn't help," Emmett pointed out, and Rosalie winced at the memory of the days Emmett had spent writhing in pain. In answer, he squeezed her hand reassuringly—as far as Emmett was concerned, the pain had been worth what was waiting for him when it was over.

Carlisle nodded, looking grim. "I'm afraid I gave you too small a dose, Emmett, assuming that any quantity of morphine can really help. Anything I give her will just burn off as the change progresses, but maybe with a big enough dosage right at the beginning, it'll be a little less unbearable for her."

Rosalie frowned. She didn't think, if given a chance, that Carlisle would have changed his vote, but he wasn't looking forward to turning Bella—that much was clear. He'd never changed a healthy human before; till now, he'd always had imminent death to justify inflicting such terrible pain. Rosalie could see that he hated the thought of being the one to kill the girl who'd saved Edward's life, but Bella herself had asked him to promise, and Carlisle would never go back on his word, even in a case like this, when he almost certainly wanted to.

"Edward should have to be the one to turn her," Rosalie said before she could reconsider the impulse to speak. "He's the one that wants her, so he should do it."

"He doesn't want her to be changed at all," Jasper pointed out. "He's certainly not going to agree to do it himself. Besides, you didn't change Emmett."

Rosalie swallowed a snarl. "That was different," she snapped. "I was too young, and I couldn't have controlled myself. Edward's tasted her blood before—he could handle it. It's not fair to force Carlisle to do it."

"Edward isn't trying to," Esme said patiently. "He's made his choice, and so has Bella. We'll just have to try to support them both." But Rosalie saw Esme squeeze her husband's hand—she too could see that Carlisle would hate to cause Bella such agony.

Carlisle nodded. "Thank you just the same, Rose," he said, smiling gratefully at her. Rosalie relaxed even further—Emmett had been right to say that at least their parents had forgiven her.

"Actually," Alice said suddenly, "he _is_ going to offer to change her himself."

For a few seconds, everyone was struck silent by amazement.

"What? Why?" Rosalie demanded.

"He's trying to bargain with her, to keep her human longer," Alice murmured, her eyes wide as she focused on the ever-changing visions in her head. Then she started to grin. "Oh, my…"

"What is it?" Jasper wondered, looking bemused by her reaction to this development. "What are you so happy about?"

"He's going to ask her to marry him!" Alice cried.

There was another moment of silence, and then everyone began to eagerly discuss the likelihood of this possible future (including what Bella's response to Edwards's proposal would be—Alice was confident enough to wonder how much time she had to plan the wedding). Rosalie largely ignored them—she was thinking now. It looked as though she would really have a new sister in a matter of weeks, either through marriage or through Carlisle or Edward changing her, and though Rosalie was beginning to accept the new addition to their family, she was skeptical of Alice's most recent vision. She couldn't imagine Edward making such a promise, for how could he live with the uncertainty—how would any of them be able to endure not knowing what Bella might have lost with her humanity?

Almost unwillingly, she glanced at her parents. If Esme hadn't been dying, Carlisle wouldn't—_couldn't_ have changed her, of that Rosalie was certain. Even now, much as he'd been willing to save Edward the pain of doing so, Carlisle looked relieved at the thought of not having to be the one to end Bella's life. He'd promised her, and he would keep that promise if he had to, but Rosalie imagined being the one to look into a human's eyes the moment before she bit them…and shuddered.

_ How many people is she willing to make miserable to get what she wants? _Rosalie thought irritably. Bella's human parents and friends aside, she was hurting Edward terribly in pursuing her desire for immortality._ It's selfish,_ Rosalie decided, _even if the Volturri _have_ made it necessary. _

Then Rosalie looked around the room, where everyone was still speculating on Alice's vision, and she had to wonder: if she'd been in Bella's place, and she'd been human when she fell in love with Emmett, wouldn't she have wanted the same thing? If she'd been given the chance to join this family while still human, if she'd been desperate to be with the person she loved for the rest of her existence without endangering that same family…would her actions have been so different from Bella's? Rosalie didn't know, but then she decided it hardly mattered. Like it or not, Bella would soon be a Cullen, and Rosalie would have years, decades, even centuries to imagine what it would be like to voluntarily relinquish mortality.

* * *

Thanks for reading! :)


	44. Jealousy

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! (I'm posting one chapter today, and then I'll have the other chapter I mentioned last Sunday ready sometime this weekend). Sorry it's taken me a while to get around to doing a continuation of this story, but here's a sequel to "Envy" at last, since I was intrigued by the idea of Carlisle being envious (and so were some reviewers :)).

Also, a quick note about Edward chapters: I just finished rereading "Midnight Sun" (which is ever so delightful, I know you're not working on it right now, but please finish it someday, Stephenie Meyer!), and from now on, I'm going to write Edward chapters in first person—I've been writing them from a third person perspective with Edward as the focus (which is what I like to do with the other characters, excluding Bella and Jacob), but it finally occurred to me that this doesn't really make sense, since I love Edward as a narrator. (Fair warning though--I checked, and there are exactly six words of spoken dialogue in this chapter. So...yeah, Edward thinks a lot...)

Anyway, hope you enjoy it, and thanks for your great reviews for the "New Moon" chapters! Pretty soon, I'm going to start counting down to "Eclipse"…(though first I'm going to go see "New Moon" again tomorrow…after seeing it again yesterday—I honestly know people who've seen it even more than that already though, so I can tell myself that I'm not as crazy as I might be ) Hope you have a great weekend!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," AND I CAN'T WAIT TO GO SEE NEW MOON AGAIN TOMORROW!!!

_1921_: Jealousy

Edward's POV

We'd been staying with Tanya's family for a few days when two more guests arrived. They were siblings with wild, dark hair, old friends of Eleazar's, and unlike the rest of us, they weren't especially committed to abstaining from human blood. According to Irina, they occasionally tried, claiming to be curious about the advantages of such a diet, but brief bouts of self-restraint had a way of ending in a sudden, violent fashion, as had apparently been the case recently: the eyes of both were blood red.

Within minutes of their arrival, the female, Alexandra, was eyeing me speculatively. I could see from her thoughts that she enjoyed traveling with her brother, but she was nonetheless willing to alter her living situation, should a desirable mate become available.

_He seems unattached, but could he be with one of the Denalis?_ she wondered.

_A bit young, but that's never stopped her before,_ her brother Michael thought drily.

_Quit looking at him,_ Tanya thought irritably, her face twisting into what barely passed for a cheerful smile of welcome.

_Wonderful_, I thought grimly. _More thoughts I'd do well to avoid._

_How lovely_, I heard Michael think suddenly. I glanced at him, wondering if he was looking at one of Tanya's sisters, and saw that he was shaking hands with Esme. His smile was pleasant, interested, and Esme smiled politely in return…and then Michael was introduced to Carlisle.

For a split second, I wondered if my father's legendary self-control would desert him—his thoughts were an inarticulate roar of dislike, but then he managed to quell the sudden surge of hatred he'd felt and smile at Michael; his expression was even more convincing than Tanya's had been, which surprised me, given the thoughts it masked.

"Nice to meet you," Michael said easily, thinking, _she's not yours, is she? Good…_

This wasn't quite as amusing as the antipathy between Esme and Irina; now that that one moment of blind rage had passed, Carlisle was basically himself again, though I was surprised at how hard he was struggling against a possessive urge to take Esme's hand and lead her out of the room. But Michael was very interested in Esme—_very_ interested. A brief scan of his thoughts revealed that he was something of a Don Juan among our kind, unusually attractive even to immortals, and he was confident in his ability to attract Esme. This bothered me, though my irritation was nothing to Carlisle's, but Esme herself was oblivious to the attention she'd attracted.

The introductions quickly gave way to polite small talk, and I relaxed a little when I considered the fact that Esme was still a newborn. Even if Michael decided to conduct himself in a less than gentlemanly fashion, she was a great deal more physically powerful than he was, so there was no question of her being able to defend herself against unwanted advances. And if it wouldn't have been a breach of my mother's trust, I could have told Carlisle that there was no danger of her returning Michael's affections—Carlisle alone among our kind, among males in general really, was attractive to her—but as the next few days went by, Carlisle worried. You wouldn't have known it to look at him, but he observed Esme's civil responses to Michael's determined attempts to converse with her with uneasiness. He was relieved by Esme's apparent disinterest, but Michael's persistence irritated him.

Of course, Esme was in some ways just as bad. She noted the way Irina often touched Carlisle's arm when she was speaking to him, the way she was forever trying to catch his eye or encouraging him to come hunting with her, and though the two women were outwardly friendly to each other, their thoughts were another story. Irina disliked Esme intensely, and her thoughts were at best critical of my mother and at worst downright spiteful; Esme thoughts, on the other hand, were never cruel, though her mind was often dominated by a kind of mental growl, but beneath her annoyance, her thoughts were uncertain, sad. She'd decided that though Carlisle wasn't interested in Irina as anything more than a friend, Esme had long ago come to the erroneous conclusion that he felt the same way about her. She'd promised herself that when (she tried not to think 'if' too hopefully) he fell in love, she would learn to tolerate that woman, in spite of the unhappiness that such a person would inevitably cause her.

I pitied both my parents for their misapprehensions, but that they should both be so obtuse never failed to bother me. If my _father_ of all people thought he didn't deserve the woman he loved, then who on earth did deserve happiness? And Esme, with her kind heart and loving nature, was, without question, just as worthy of Carlisle as he was of her. Regardless of my optimism though, they had yet to realize the truth behind what each constantly mistook for unrequited love.

My parents' presumed rivals elicited far less sympathy from me, however. Both Michael and Irina were convinced that their heretofore unsuccessful attempts at seduction would eventually pay off, so both kept flirting, and every time, both were gently rebuffed. For my part, I didn't think that I could have been so patient if my unwanted admirers had insisted on speaking to me out loud—it was annoying enough just hearing them in my head.

All things considered, our two weeks in Denali seemed to pass very slowly. Though it was interesting to mingle with my own kind for a change (and thus hear a range of thoughts that differed radically from those of the humans I attended school with), having to listen to my parents' insecurities, not to mention the often explicit fantasies of Tanya and Alexandra, was uncomfortable to say the least. Carlisle and Esme were both mortified by what I couldn't help but overhear, and though they each apologized frequently for what both considered petty feelings that they'd do better to suppress, for the most part, we all pretended that there was nothing amiss, and we all endeavored to enjoy what I'd hoped would be a restful vacation. Meanwhile, I also had the dubious pleasure of hearing the various speculations of the Denali clan.

_They'll be getting married soon_, Carman thought confidently every time she looked at my parents; Eleazar and the others agreed, but Tanya and Kate couldn't quite bring themselves to tell their sister what they really thought of her chances with Carlisle. Everyone, it seemed, was curious about me too. Michael and Alexandra, who'd never met anyone with my talent, frequently wondered just how much I heard, and how often I was listening to them; Tanya was dying to ask me what was really going on between Carlisle and Esme, though only as a means of getting closer to me by expressing an interest in my family; and Irina wanted to know what Carlisle thought of her, but she was, to my relief, too proud to ask. For my part, I carefully kept my mouth shut about the things I heard, most of them embarrassing after all, and soon, the last day of our visit arrived.

That last evening, Tanya decided that she wanted to hear some music. I obligingly sat down at the piano (which was badly in need of tuning), and played the sort of lively air that Tanya had been hoping for—after all, if I was playing, she couldn't try to talk me into dancing with her, for hosting an impromptu dance was exactly what she intended. Irina and Kate joined in her enthusiasm, and in seconds, they'd cleared the living room of furniture and were running through the house, asking the others to come partake of the sudden festivities.

To my amusement, everyone obliged the sisters. Indulging in something like this among humans was almost impossible, for any lapse in concentrating on resisting one's thirst could prove disastrous, so it was oddly pleasant to watch Eleazar and Carman twirling about the room at inhuman speed, both of them happy and at ease. Irina was looking at Carlisle hopefully, but out of the corner of my eye, I could see him watching Michael asking Esme to dance. To my slight dismay, she said yes—not because she liked him, but because she liked to dance. She hadn't danced in years, and I could see she thought that Carlisle wouldn't be interested in such things. Naturally, he was interested in anything Esme might enjoy, and he watched carefully as Michael led her around the room, his hands, I was pleased to note, not holding Esme too close for her comfort.

When I finished the first song, I began another equally upbeat tune, and tried to conceal a grin when Carlisle approached Esme.

"May I?" he said quietly.

Esme nodded shyly, which made me suppress another smile—the three of us lived under the same roof, for heaven's sake—and Michael reluctantly released her. Then he moved to dance with Irina, who was looking equally sour at the arrangement of partners. In a fruitless attempt to avoid the meaningful looks of Tanya and Alexandra, I kept my eyes on the piano, which meant that I watched my parents dance though the thoughts of those around them.

Before they began to move, I was a little anxious; as far as I knew, Carlisle had never danced before. But when he began to lead Esme around the room, I understood why he'd been watching Michael so carefully: it wasn't out of jealousy so much as a desire to mimic his movements. And he did—perfectly. For a moment, Esme looked as surprised as I felt, but then she grinned at him, and for the first time in days, they looked at each other happily, without jealousy or uncertainty about the future to trouble them. They were both elated, as was I on their behalf, just to be together, and in that moment, I think they both began to hope, however hesitantly, that they might someday be more than friends.


	45. Gratitude

Sorry for being a bit tardy in updating again, and happy (four days after) Thanksgiving! Please note that for the next two weeks, because of finals (papers and projects are ever so much fun…), I'll only be posting one chapter per week. They'll hopefully be rather long-ish though, so at least there's that. This one's certainly long—it's post "Breaking Dawn," by the way, which always kind of worries me—I have so many ideas about what happens next, but feel free to disagree with where artistic license took me this time. Regardless of how plausible this scenario is, I really enjoyed imagining it, so I hope you'll enjoy reading it. (This story sort of falls more into the category of a family story than one that focuses on Carlisle and Esme, but there are several cute C/Es moments, so I hope you like those ). Also, a link to some "Twilight" fanart is coming, honest, but first I have to find a working scanner… (mine is still being uncooperative…)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," I am not, and though I've seen it three times, I really want to go see "New Moon" again on Saturday!

_2007_: Gratitude

Bella's POV

It was actually Emmett of all people who suggested, after everything that had happened in the past year, that we do something festive for Thanksgiving with Jacob, his pack, and their families. Emmett told me he remembered how much he'd enjoyed big meals when he was human, so what if we had them over for dinner?

"Don't say it like that," I told him. "Let's _invite_ them for dinner, not _have_ them for dinner."

Emmett laughed. "You know that's what I meant, little sister. Come on, what better way to celebrate the fact that we weren't all viciously killed by the Volturi a few months back than to break bread with some wolves and humans?" he said, grinning.

"Maybe you shouldn't smile like that when you mention this to Jacob," I said, Though it doesn't faze me now, when I was human, it would sort of freak me out when Emmett smiled like that, showing all his teeth. "Or better yet, I'll ask him."

Jacob said yes, he'd come have dinner with us a couple days after Thanksgiving, and it didn't surprise me that Seth agreed to come too—out of all the wolves, neither of them really minds how we smell anymore, and Seth especially loves how well Edward and Esme cook. But I was sort of amazed that Billy, Sue and Leah all agreed to come too.

"What?" Jacob said when I looked surprised. "Charlie's invited, isn't he?"

"Of course, but why—"

"Bella, Sue's over here all the time anyway when he visits Nessie, and she's not about to let her boyfriend attend a dinner party thrown by vampires alone," he said, twisting his head slightly—he was sitting on the floor, and Nessie was sitting on the couch behind him, braiding his hair.

"Hold still, please," she said, and I kissed my well-mannered daughter on the forehead.

"But Leah? How did you convince her?" I wondered out, not commenting on how strange it still sounded to hear my dad referred to as someone's boyfriend.

"I talked to her, and she feels like it's sort of her duty as my beta to come. Plus, the rest of her family and her pack are all going to be here too, and she knows that everybody else is pretty much friends now—she can't avoid you guys forever. She's really working on, you know, not being so paranoid about you guys, since I've im—I mean, because of me and Nessie.."

I gave Jake a look, and he pretended to be very interested in what Nessie was doing to his hair—we don't mention the word 'imprint' around here very often, since I like Jacob and I'd feel really bad if I accidently decapitated him. Even now, after months of good behavior on my part, everyone's still pretty careful about the whole, 'Bella's a newborn, so don't get her mad' thing. I think Nessie and Edward are probably the only ones who never worry about me losing it and snapping someone in half, but I guess it's to be expected—I used to worry that I'd be homicidal maniac too, so maybe in a few more years, everyone will relax a bit.

"Quil and Embry are coming too," Jacob said quickly, I think to move the conversation away from anything that might provoke violence on my part.

"What, they're really that used to us now too?" I wondered. I knew Jake wouldn't do the Alpha thing and order them to come, but I guessed that he might have been able to convince them some other way. "Or did you bribe them with a promise that they could try driving my car?"

"No, they agreed right away when I told them about coming out here for dinner on Sunday," Jacob said, chuckling at the memory. "I think they were just tired of Seth making fun of them for being too wussy to come over on their own. Haven't you noticed that they never come out here unless Seth and I are with them?"

"Well, we are pretty terrifying," I acknowledged, trying not to laugh as Nessie finished one of Jacob's braids (she'd braided pigtails for him) with a pink hair tie, a bow on the end of it.

Edward, Esme and I basically took over the kitchen on Saturday morning, not that anyone cared since no one else ever used it. Carlisle and Nessie sat at the table and watched us prepare five turkeys, five hams, and about ten pounds of every kind of casserole and potato dish we could think of. Oh, and pies—we made about twenty different kinds of pie, knowing full well that each wolf would probably devour two on their own.

"I'm really glad that the kitchen's big enough for us to do this," I said as Esme removed six pies from the rack of the industrial size oven, "but why did you design it this way since you don't eat?"

"Whoever eventually buys this house from us will expect a kitchen this big," she explained. "In a house this size, it would seem strange if the kitchen were too small, let alone if there weren't one at all, or if there weren't four master bathrooms, so when I plan a house, I try to think about what humans would want in addition to what we want. That way, builders and realtors don't get suspicious about the design."

"Oh, okay," I said, watching as Edward fit ten casserole dishes into the oven effortlessly. "Isn't this almost too big though?"

"Almost," Esme agreed. "We might have a hard time selling this time, but the location's good enough that someone's going to want to live here."

It made me a little sad to imagine another family living in our house, so I put that thought aside—we'd have to deal with moving soon enough anyway—and turned to Nessie.

"Would you like to taste anything?" I asked, laughing at her expression of suppressed disgust.

"Um…not right now," she said. "I'm saving my appetite for tomorrow."

"Should we all go hunting later?" Edward offered, but Nessie shook her head.

"Grandpa Charlie worries if I don't eat anything at dinner," she said. "It all smells...interesting, I'm just not sure I'll like how it tastes."

"I'll try something if you will," Carlisle offered.

Nessie looked skeptical. "Like what?"

"Here's a biscuit you can split," Esme said, giving Carlisle an amused look. "You should have had this to go with all the elk you had this weekend."

Carlisle looked at Nessie as he took his half of the biscuit, and she watched as he very deliberately seemed to pop it in his mouth and eat it.

Nessie gasped, and then Carlisle pulled the biscuit from behind her ear.

"That's cheating!" Nessie cried, but she was laughing too hard to really look indignant.

Since Emmett was the one who'd had this idea, Rosalie was unusually civil about having dinner with the wolves. In fact, when Jacob and Billy arrived on Sunday, she suggested that they play football.

"Since I'm not allowed to really kill you, it would be fun to at least pretend to," she said, her smile flinty with the effort to be friendly.

Jacob smiled too and looked at Seth, who'd ridden along with him. "What do you think? Wolves versus leeches?"

"That doesn't seem fair," Seth argued, grinning. "If we did that, they'd really get creamed. I'll be with Rosalie, you be with Emmett."

"We'll play too," Alice said, running down the stairs with Jasper in tow, a football in his hand. She joined Emmett and Jacob's team, in an effort to even out the size difference slightly, so Jasper joined Rosalie and Seth as the six of them ran down to the lawn.

Billy said hello, looking genuinely happy to see me, though my eyes still kind of unnerved him—I'd put in a pair of brown contacts, as I always did when humans came to visit, but my irises were still odd looking, an unnatural color because of the gold behind the brown. Together, we went outside to watch the football game from the front porch. Jacob and Seth dashed off into the trees to phase, and when they came back, the two teams took their places on opposite sides of the lawn. Just then, Quil and Embry arrived with their parents; they seemed a little hesitant at first, but when Jacob gave them a wolfy grin of encouragement, they ran off to phase too. Embry went to stand by Seth, Quil joined Jacob, and then Emmett threw the ball to Alice to kickoff.

I was able to follow what was happening easily, but judging by Billy's expression, it was a little disorienting for a human to watch the wolves and my siblings moving so fast, and frequently smashing into each other with enough force to shatter stone. Of course, the vampires were careful not tackle the wolves too forcefully, and the wolves made sure they didn't use their teeth. Both Quil and Embry's parents seemed unfazed by the by now familiar site of giant wolves, so they came to watch the game too—like Billy, they tried to look like it wasn't sort of shocking to see anything so big move so fast, but didn't really succeed. They gave me a wide berth at first, but they were friendly, and gradually seemed to decide by talking to me that I wasn't too bloodthirsty—Nessie coming to sit with me probably helped make a good impression too.

Carlisle and Esme came outside then, Edward with them—once everyone arrived and the turkeys finished cooking, we could eat—well, then our guests could.

"Your home is lovely," Mrs. Ateara said as everyone shook hands

"Thank you," Esme said, chuckling. "I'm glad they're playing outside of it though—I've had to explain more than once that no house is sturdy enough for a football game inside if these kids are playing."

"Want to play?" I offered.

Edward grinned at me. "You'd have to play too, to make it even."

"What do you think?" I asked, looking down at Nessie.

Nessie smiled. "Just be careful not to beat them too bad, Mama."

So Edward and I joined the others, while Carlisle and Esme stayed on the porch to keep our human guests company,

"Think you can get past me, Bella?" Emmett shouted as I joined Seth and Rose's team.

"Watch me," I said, flashing sharp teeth.

It's impossibly strange sometimes, after a lifetime of clumsiness, to be not just athletic, but superhuman. Of course, when you're playing a game with giant wolves and other impossibly strong immortals, it's not like either team scores very much. And Emmett and Jake's team certainty had an advantage when Edward's mindreading was added to their side, but my team had me, the newborn. And Edward couldn't read my mind, so that helped too—I may not be as fast as he is, but I'm still stronger, so as long as I could get past him, I was a force to be reckoned with.

It was unfortunately just as I'd dodged Edward, Jacob and Quil, tackled Emmett and run the ball in for a touchdown that Charlie drove up with Sue and Leah. One look at his face told me that though he hadn't seen everything—his eyes couldn't follow most of my movements—he'd seen enough to deeply startle him.

"Hi," I said awkwardly when he got out of the cruiser.

"Hi," he said, sort of blankly. "Nice play."

I somehow managed not to laugh. "Thanks."

And then, to my infinite relief, Charlie smiled—not a frightened smile, but a happy one. I guess after thinking I might be dying for weeks last summer, usually he's just glad I'm okay—he's thankful I'm alive, and he doesn't wonder too much about what I've become. Still, I was glad that Esme called everyone in for dinner before any more weirdness could occur—everyone's glad that Charlie handles things as well as he does, but like with me and the unpredictable nature of the newborn, no one likes to push his tolerance of the strange too far.

Nessie tasted a little bit of everything at dinner, but didn't really swallow much—the rest of us didn't even pretend to eat, since the wolves knew about us and were happy to eat what would have been our portions. There was actually enough food to go around, but just barely—though the humans there were used to watching the wolves they were related to eat, I think it sort of shocked them to see the whole pack consuming such huge quantities of food all at once. Rosalie made more than a few snide remarks about having to put the dogs on a diet, but Jacob, who normally would have had a comeback ready, was too busy stuffing himself to respond.

About halfway through the meal, someone knocked on the door.

"Could you get that, Bella?" Esme asked—I was seated closest to the hallway.

"Sure," I said, though in the time it took me to speak, I'd reached the foyer. I opened the door, thinking that it might be someone from the Denali clan dropping in, so I was shocked to find Renée standing on the front porch.

While I stared at her and tried to think of something to say, Renée stared at me too, her eyes slowly widening.

"Bella?" she whispered.

I swallowed and tried not to think about how her blood smelled—with a large group of humans and wolves, like the one currently occupying the dining room, it was easier not to notice specific scents, the sounds of particular heartbeats, or how someone might taste—

"Yes, Mom, it's me," I said, speaking quietly—it _was_ still me, not the bloodthirsty newborn now. In our many phone conversations since the last time I'd seen her (at our wedding, actually), she'd noticed the way my voice had changed, but her expression showed that now she was definitely registering the rest of the changes I'd undergone over the past year. Instead of looking scared like I'd expected though, she started to smile.

"Bella," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears, "oh, baby, I'm so glad to see you!"

Then she hugged me—I felt guilty at the very thought of dodging her embrace—and though the closeness made my throat burn, I suddenly felt like crying too.

"I'm glad to see you too," I whispered, but after a few seconds of happiness at seeing my mother had passed, I started to wonder who was responsible for her being here. Alice was the obvious culprit, but would Renée really have come here all the way from Florida on Alice's word alone?

"Phil wanted to come, but I asked him to stay home," Renée said suddenly, pulling away far enough to look at me, but still keeping her hands on my shoulders—I was kind of amazed that she wasn't repulsed by my frozen skin yet. "He doesn't know I'm here, I told him I was going to a teacher's conference, and I won't tell anyone else I've been here either, so don't worry, honey. Whatever secret you have, I won't ask you what it is. I just really wanted to see you."

I was really confused. "Wait, what do you know about—I mean, who told you—"

"Carlisle and Esme called me," Renée said. "They both got on the phone and explained that you were all right, but that you'd changed, and that was why you haven't visited. They didn't say exactly what happened, just that it wouldn't be safe to see you—for either of us—if I told anyone I'd been here."

I blinked. "And—and that didn't freak you out?"

"Honey, as long as I'm not going to lose you, I don't care what you are," she said, eying me thoughtfully. "Though I can't say that you've changed for the worse. You look….wonderful. But I promise I won't ask any how or why questions."

"Umm," I said, my mind still trying to process all this. "Thanks."

I could sort of understand what had happened now—Alice had probably seen that unlike Charlie, who could often barely resist the urge to inquire further into what we really were, credulous, trusting Renée would keep any strangeness on my part a secret just as long as she could still be a part of my life. Then Alice must have asked Carlisle and Esme to contact her—their role as parents could make a vague explanation about the necessity of secrecy seem plausible, at least to Renée, who'd probably spent the past few months just wishing she could see me, no matter what state I was in. And now, here she was.

"Want to come in and have dinner?" I said, finally realizing that we were still standing on the porch. As soon as I'd shut the door behind me, Nessie stepped around the corner and smiled at us.

"Mama, who's this?" she asked.

If I hadn't had my arm around Renee, I'm pretty sure she would have fallen over in shock, but as it was, she just leaned against me and took several deep breathes.

"It's a secret, it's a secret, and I won't say anything," she whispered. Nessie giggled, her eyes—my human eyes—flashing as she laughed.

So Renée joined us for dinner, sitting between me and Nessie. Everyone was sort of shocked to see her at first (except for the three people responsible for her being there—someone how they'd managed for who knows how long to keep from thinking about Renée when Edward was around), but her very presence seemed to prove to the wolves and their human parents that Renée could keep a secret—people who couldn't weren't invited to vampires' houses for dinner. As far as my immortal family was concerned, Jasper and Rosalie both looked disapproving at first, but they seemed to relax when they saw how much Nessie liked Renée.

"Don't worry," Alice said, speaking too quickly and quietly for anyone but the other vampires in the room to hear. "I've looked and looked, and every future shows Renée not saying anything to anyone about us. It's really okay—from now on, she's going to be willing to do anything to see Bella and Nessie."

"As long as _anything_ includes keeping quiet, then fine," Rosalie said, speaking the same way, and Jasper nodded once—he could probably feel Renée's commitment to keeping her promise about not asking questions.

"Alice, Carlisle, Esme," I said swiftly, my voice the same as my sisters'. "I might be mad later that you did this without telling me, but right now…thank you."

Edward squeezed my hand and glanced at Alice. "The Volturi?" he said, and I shifted uneasily—I'd thought of this too, and it was the only thing that had tempered my happiness at seeing my mother tonight.

"They aren't thinking of her now, and I don't see them doing so anytime soon," Alice said. "Their current plan of action is to avoid having anything to do with us, actually."

"The confrontation last year has shaken them badly," Carlisle said, smiling at me apologetically. Not for the first time, I was impressed by how convenient it was to be able to speak this way when surrounded by humans—none of us had made an obvious movement during the conversation, and so far, it had only lasted seconds. "Until they can find Jacobim and ascertain what sort of threat he might pose to their power structure, they'll have no interest in anything else, especially not in challenging us, when we've shown that our strength equals or even exceeds theirs."

"We're sorry we went about this underhandedly, Bella," Esme said, "but Nessie told me once that she'd like to know both her grandmothers. So, I asked Alice if that might be possible—and safe. And as soon as she was sure, we called Renée."

I watched my mother talking to my daughter— Renée loves kids, and they love her, and just when I looked at them, Nessie was grinning happy at something her grandmother had told her. I tried to keep my face straight so it wouldn't look like I was crying. "Thank you, all three of you."

Everyone thanked us for dinner and left a couple hours after dark, just as Nessie was starting to look sleepy. It was while we were packing up what little leftover food there was that Renée finally ate something—she'd been so busy talking to me and Nessie that she'd barely touched anything at the table, though of course watching the wolves eat might have intimidated her slightly too.

"Esme, these rolls are amazing," Renée said, trying to offer Nessie half of one.

"Umm, no thank you, but I think Grandpa Carlisle will eat that," Nessie said politely.

No one paused in their cleaning tasks, but we were all listening carefully, wondering what Carlisle would do. He could easily move fast enough to dispose of the food without Renée seeing, but I think he was amused, as were the rest of us, that Nessie was getting him back for trying to trick her the day before. And we were always trying to convince her to eat human food—she was probably getting fed up with us encouraging something that none of us could stomach.

"Thank you," Carlisle said easily. We all heard him take the roll, chew it, then swallow.

"Okay, now I'm glad you made me help clean up," Emmett said, his voice so low that Renée couldn't hear—he was grinning at Carlisle, obviously eager to ask how the roll had tasted.

"This was your idea, so you'd better help," Edward said quietly, but he too was smirking.

"Good?" Esme said, speaking at a normal volume. She was looking at Carlisle sympathetically, but her lips were twitching in a suspicious way, and like Nessie, she was shaking slightly with suppressed laughter.

"Delicious," Carlisle said, his expression cheerful but slightly pained—I had yet to try human food since the change, but from everything I'd been told, it was pretty unpleasant.

Renée was tired from her trip, and it was past the time Nessie usually fell asleep, so I wasn't surprised to find the two of them asleep on the couch soon after they'd left the kitchen. I carried them both upstairs to one of the guest rooms— Renée had taken the week off from work to stay with us, and Edward and I would be back in the morning before she woke up, a thought that made me grin. The possibility that I'd never see my mother again was something I'd been trying to ignore for over a year now, and now that that fear had been eliminated, a huge weight of anxiety had disappeared.

I could hear Edward at the piano downstairs, waiting for me so we could go back to the cottage, but I also heard—

"It was nice of you to endure my cooking," Esme was saying playfully—I realized that she and Carlisle must still be in the kitchen.

"Well, I'd never tried any food you'd made before," Carlisle said, "and it really did taste better than I expected, for human food."

"So it was less disgusting than you expected," Esme said, laughing, but then she lowered her voice.  
"Come in here for minute," she said. "I want to show you how grateful I am for your support of my culinary efforts." Then I heard the pantry door snap shut.

"Enhanced hearing is a mixed blessing sometimes, isn't it?" Edward said, meeting me at the bottom of the stairs—we left the house quickly, before either of us could hear his parents say anything more explicit.

"I'll get used to this too, I guess," I said, shaking my head—my embarrassment was already turning into amusement. "It's nice, having a big family, even if I do have to be careful not to walk in on people."

"They mean well, and so does Alice," Edward said quietly. "Carlisle and Esme hated having to tell Rosalie and Emmett after they'd turned that they could never see their families again, so they're glad that our world has changed enough that you can join our family without completely losing yours. They only did this because they were sure it was safe, but are you sure you're not upset? I'm happy to see your mother too, but do you mind being taken by surprise this way?"

"Like I said, maybe in the morning I'll be angry, but I doubt it," I said. "Right now, I'm just so happy she's here. I know it's selfish, but I've actually been thinking about asking her to visit for weeks now. I tried to tell myself that she could be like Charlie, that we could still see each other just as long as she didn't know the truth, but now, to actually hear from Alice that she's going to be all right…even if her visions always do have an element of uncertainty to them, it's such a relief."

"Why didn't you ask Alice to check before Esme did?" Edward wondered. "You might have found out sooner."

"But I was afraid she'd just tell me that no, it would never be safe to see her," I explained. "Besides, I've got so much to be grateful for right now, so many reasons to be happy, that I guess I sort of thought that having Renée too would be too much to ask. I still can't believe she's here. I guess I almost feel like I don't deserve to be so happy, but I am anyway."

"I'm glad," Edward said, smiling again as he wrapped his arm around me. "Your mother's thoughts certainly do indicate that she'll keep us a secret, and I've never seen one of Alice's visions look so certain. But just so you know, no one's going to get into the habit of making decisions for you like this—they'll be sure to ask you next time."

"I think I'll let it slide in this case, since the result's exactly what I'd been hoping for," I said, smiling. "When Alice meddles for a good cause like this, I can't really complain. And Carlisle and Esme get a pass too, since they gave me an idea."

"And what's that?" Edward asked.

I grinned at him in the darkness as we leapt over the river. "I've never checked. Does our cottage have a pantry?"

We raced home and proceeded to show each other just how grateful we were for one another.


	46. Duty

Hi everyone! Hope you had a great week and sorry that it took so long to finish and post this—Sunday's chapter shouldn't be delayed (I always think that, but this time I really mean it), since it's already written, and I'm hoping to type it out tonight or tomorrow. Thank you, thank you for all your reviews, and if you get a chance to hit the green button at the bottom, I'll appreciate it. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the creator of "Twilight," and, as I may have mentioned before, is therefore awesome.

_2007_: Duty

Jacob's POV

It was a warm, sunny Saturday, amazingly warm for December, so I was at First Beach in La Push with Nessie. She could swim fine, but even with the unseasonable warmth, it was a little too cold for humans to be comfortable in the water, so we never went out past the shallows, and if either of us heard someone coming up the beach, we quickly got out of the water—at worst, we'd look crazy for swimming, and at best, I'd look like a terrible babysitter.

We were building a sand castle when I noticed Jared walking over the rocks toward us, holding hands with Kim.

"Hey," he said, staring at us. "I forgot she can go out in the sun."

"She can talk, you know," I said, rolling my eyes. The annoying thing about how Nessie looks is that it leads people to treat her like she's three, even though she's probably smarter than they are—she's definitely smarter than Jared, anyway. It doesn't seem to bother her, but it always bugs me.

Jared grinned at my irritated look. "Hi, Nessie," he said. "Nice castle."

"Thanks," she said. "Jacob's helping me."

"Right, helping," I said, shaking my head. "You're the architect, and I'm the guy in charge of bringing you water and sand."

"You're the contractor," Nessie agreed. "And I'm the foreman in charge of construction."

Kim looked a little startled to hear Nessie's vocabulary—everyone who knows about the wolves knows about Nessie and what she is, but when she stops pretending to be a regular kid, it can still really freak people out. I think in this case, she was sort of doing it on purpose too—kid has her mother's slightly twisted sense of humor.

"You remember Kim, right Nessie?" Jared asked. He was smiling at his girlfriend's expression too.

"Hi, Kim," Nessie said, waving at the older girl cheerfully.

"Hi," Kim said, staring at Nessie. "Jacob, are you—I mean, do you guys want to come to Sam and Emily's for dinner later?"

"They asked us to invite you," Jared said, making a face. "I was going to conveniently forget to tell you so there'd be more food for the rest of us, but lucky for you, Kim's a lot nicer than I am."

"Actually, I was going over to the Cullens' tonight anyway," I said. "If I go hang out with you guys, it'll turn into a party, but at the Cullens' place, at least there's a chance I'll get some homework done."

Jared groaned. "Crap, I've got stuff I need to do too. Some paper for English…"

"We got that assignment weeks ago," Kim said, shaking her head at him. "Jeez, if you guys spent half the time on homework that you do as wolves, you'd both be on the honor roll."

"You'll help me though, won't you?" Jared said, giving her a pleading look that was ruined by the way he was grinning hopefully.

Kim laughed. "You know I will—sort of. I'll help you do some research, then you can work on your paper while I do calculus tomorrow."

"Damn, I've got math to do too," Jared muttered grimly, glancing up at the clear sky. "Guess I'd better enjoy being outside today—Sunday's a homework day."

"Have fun with that, and at dinner at Sam and Em's," I said, and then they said goodbye, walking down the beach with their arms around each other.

"Jared's lucky," Nessie said thoughtfully.

I shrugged, wondering what she meant. "Yeah, Kim's really nice."

"I meant because they're the same age," Nessie went on. "Sam and Emily too. Sam and Jared didn't have to wait and wonder, like you and Quil do."

"Um," I said, not knowing how to respond to this. "Wonder what?"

"How I'll feel about you when I grow up," Nessie said easily—obviously this wasn't an awkward topic for her, but it was for me. I mean, right now, Nessie feels like a weird combination of sister and daughter to me—but of course, the freaky part of imprinting is that it won't always be that way.

I think she could sense my discomfort because she sighed and tried again. "Let's use Quil and Claire as an example then. When she grows up, how is she going to feel about him, him having known her since she was a baby?"

"Honestly, I have no idea," I said, shrugging again. "Imprinting is supposed to be a really rare thing, according to the old stories, and no one, even old Quil, seems to really know what happens when one of us imprints on a kid as young as Claire. I'm guessing that, since he'll still be the same age, she might fall for him, but it seems like there's a pretty good chance that when she grows up, she'll just see him as being like a brother to her. If that happens, then I guess Quil will just always love her like a sister—he'll want her to be happy with whoever she chooses, even if it isn't him."

"Oh," Nessie said, looking at me, "but that's just what you _hope_ will happen, isn't it? Because you don't want Quil to be unhappy."

"There are plenty of stories about imprinting with unhappy endings," I said grimly, but then I found myself grinning at her. "At least I don't have to worry about losing you though. You're a lot sturdier than a human."

Nessie smiled. "That's true, but now you're trying to distract me. Why don't you like to talk about this?"

I groaned. "Seriously, you're _way_ too perceptive for a kid your age—or any age," I muttered. "All right, I'll admit it: imprinting is kind of a touchy subject for me—and for your parents, who I'm sure you've noticed aren't thrilled about this whole thing, by the way."

"They don't want me to feel obligated to choose you, that's all," she said simply, and I shook my head—it's intensely strange to hear stuff like that come out of the mouth of a kid who looks barely older than a toddler. "But it's not like you could control choosing me."

"No, but that's not the part that really bothers me," I said slowly. Another imprinting thing: somehow I always seem to tell Nessie the truth, without even thinking about what's going to come out of my mouth. "I _like_ how things are now—I like being a part of your family but still getting to stay with my dad, and my pack. But in a year or two at most, we'll have to leave, move somewhere where eight and a half vampires and a giant wolfboy won't attract attention. The whole imprinting thing…it just constantly reminds me how much things are going to change in the next few years." I glanced at her. "You couldn't maybe try to just stop aging for a while, could you?"

Nessie laughed. "Now you sound more like a parent than a potential suitor, Jacob," she said, and at least when she laughed, she sort of sounded like a normal kid.

I rolled my eyes—at least the serious part of this conversation seemed to be over. "Look, can we please table the issue of imprinting for a couple more years? This weekend anyway, I just need to worry about finishing my homework." _After that_, I thought, _I can think about spending the rest of eternity hanging out with vampires. Oh, but I still have to finish high school first. How crazy is it that the first thing seems better than the second one?_

"Let's go home so you can start your homework," Nessie decided. "Should we take your car?"

"We both know that you don't want us to take my car," I said, laughing at her eager expression as I kicked off my shoes and stepped into the trees to phase. "Just a sec, and you can grab my clothes," I called, and then I phased. Nessie abandoned our sandcastle just as soon as she heard my body begin to sprout fur, and as soon as I'd changed, she climbed onto my back, my shoes in her hands and my clothes stuffed into the empty duffle bag we'd brought with us.

"Okay," Nessie said, and then she shrieked with laughter as I started to run. Nessie's pretty fast herself, but not as fast as me—sorry kid. I raced through the trees, being careful to avoid low-hanging branches, and we were pretty close to the Cullens' place when I caught Leah's scent nearby. I heard her in my head a moment later.

_It can walk just fine, so why are you giving it a ride? _she wondered, and I growled slightly. Nessie touched the top of my head and sent me an image of Leah, and I nodded, though not so hard that I shook her off my back.

_Nice to see you're in such a good mood,_ she thought smugly. _Homework? Wow, I really don't miss high school—hope you enjoy repeating it with the Cullens for the next few centuries._

_Don't you have something better to do with your time than annoy me?_ I wondered. _Wait, no, you probably don't. Okay, never mind._

Leah growled at me, but then I felt her course change so she was moving back toward La Push. Like the rest of the pack, Leah's welcome at the Cullens' place any time, but Leah being Leah, she gives the whole forest around the big white house a wide berth, insisting that she can pick up the stink of leeches from miles away—Leah's nothing if not dramatic.

As I moved out of the forest and into the big clearing bordering the driveway, I spotted Carlisle and Esme sitting at a table under one of the big cedars. The shade kept the sun off them, but they were still wearing long sleeves to cover as much skin as possible—better safe than sorry, I guess. Poor Charlie had seen some strange stuff since I'd introduced him to our little corner of weird, but luckily, he had yet to see a vampire out in the sun.

Nessie hopped off my back and raced over to her grandparents—they both had books on the table in front of them, but my eyesight had been quick enough to catch Esme slipping out of Carlisle's lap and into her chair just as we emerged from the trees. I'm sure they heard my barking laugh of relief as I went back into the woods to phase, the duffle bag in my teeth—every day I don't walk in on a private moment between vampires, Carlisle and Esme especially, is a good day.

"Hi," I said, after I'd exchanged fur for clothes.

"Hello, Jacob," Carlisle said easily, and I was further relieved to see that they'd both straightened their clothes, which had seemed sort of messed up when we'd arrived (though I'd been making an effort not to look at them too closely before). Seriously, if I'm going to be living with these people for the next few years, or eons, then I'd like to feel awkward around them as little as possible.

"Everyone's gone hunting, but they should be back in a few minutes," Esme said. "Nessie said you wanted to ask Jasper something?"

"Yeah, for a paper I need to write this weekend," I explained. "It's about the Civil War, so I figured I'd ask him about what it was really like—while he was human, anyway. Then I might have a better idea of what to write about."

Esme didn't respond, but she glanced at Carlisle and suddenly Nessie was grinning at her grandfather.

"Uh oh," I muttered. "What is it? It's something kind of disturbing, isn't it?"

"Grandpa saw Abraham Lincoln once," Nessie explained, giggling.

I must have looked as shocked as I felt—I mean, I could actually feel my mouth hanging open—because Carlisle quickly elaborated.

"It was when he first ran for governor, years before the war," he explained. "I was on my way to a hospital job in Minnesota, and when I was travelling through Illinois, I went to hear him speak."

See, sometimes for days or even weeks at a time, I forget about the strangeness of the Cullens' actual ages, Carlisle's especially, and then one of them will say something like this.

"So," I said finally. "Was it…interesting?"

Carlisle chuckled. "I think that like many people back then, I thought that Lincoln was an intelligent young man who would never succeed in politics."

I nodded stupidly, thinking that maybe I wouldn't ask Jasper to tell me about the Civil War after all—whatever he told me would probably just weird me out anyway.

Carlisle seemed to guess what I was thinking. "There are some books inside that might help you, Jacob. After you mentioned your paper to Bella yesterday, she found some useful things in my office that you're welcome to use."

"And there are brownies cooling on the stove if you want any," Esme offered as I got up and moved reluctantly toward the house—no point in putting off getting started any longer. I found the books Bella had left out for me, stacked a few brownies on a plate and got a glass of milk before I went back outside, deciding that even though I had homework that didn't mean that I had to be stuck inside all day.

As I was crossing the lawn, a huge gust of wind hit the cedars around the house, making them sway wildly, and for a few seconds, some sunlight managed to creep through the gaps in the branches and land on Carlisle and Esme. Nessie laughed, delighted as the facets of their skin caught and reflected the light, and I grinned. Just like it was my duty to protect Nessie, it was Carlisle and Esme's job to keep secrets like this (and that of their true ages) as best they could. We all have a duty to try and pretend to be normal…even though we're anything but.


	47. Letters

Darn it, I always think I'm going to be on time, and then…well, then I usually find out that I have to write another paper or something (at least, that's been happening the last couple of weeks…good luck to everyone who has/had finals, and everyone else too—busy time of year—for me, finals are finished now, which is why I'm finally posting a chapter on a Sunday again! )

Anyway, sorry this took a while (and that I basically skipped last week), but it's a long chapter today, and then I plan to post three more on Christmas (though only one is really very Christmas-y :)) Today's chapter is rather different from my usual thing: it's a series of letters that Esme wrote but never sent to Carlisle during the years between the time they met and when she died—the POV here is the daughter of Esme's landlady in Ashland, who finds the letters after Esme's apparent suicide and reads a few. Hope you enjoy, and reviews are always excellent! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and is therefore fantastic. :)

_1921_: Letters

Katherine Marshall's POV

It was early evening, and Katherine had been ordered up to Mrs. Platt's room to clean it in preparation for the arrival of a new boarder. Katherine was glad to have a reason to avoid her parents for an hour or two—the whole town was talking about the manner of Mrs. Platt's death and the subsequent disappearance of her body, and the Marshall family was in an uproar at the thought of what such a scandal would do to their business. After all, who wanted to rent a room when the previous occupant had committed suicide? However, Katherine was to clean the room just the same, and she'd been told in no uncertain terms that she was not to tell anyone what she knew about Mrs. Platt, though Katherine knew almost nothing that wasn't already public knowledge.

According to Mrs. Platt herself, her husband had been injured in the war. At first, she'd explained, he'd seemed to recover, but then an old wound that had ostensibly healed reopened and became infected, and then he'd died. Mrs. Platt had claimed that, having no family to go to, she'd come to Ashland from Akron to look for work, and no one had questioned her story. She wasn't the only war widow in town after all, and Mrs. Platt was well-liked by the children and the other teachers at the school where she'd taught, so people had accepted her quickly. But then, her little son had been born sickly, and he'd died when he was just a few days old. Mrs. Platt, wild with grief, had thrown herself from a cliff, where she'd been found, her body broken beyond repair and her face barely recognizable. She'd been taken to the hospital only to be pronounced dead immediately, but now, no one seemed to know what had happened to her remains.

The body had made it to the hospital morgue—several nurses and orderlies were certain of that—but no one knew who had signed Mrs. Platt's death certificate or where exactly her body had been taken. Most people assumed that a relative had finally tracked her down, only to find her dead, and had taken her body from Ashland the same night she'd died. Of course, the kinds of people that were prone to gossip couldn't stop asking how it could be that no one knew exactly where the body had gone—rather than being claimed by a relative in the dead of night, what if Mrs. Platt's remains had been stolen? Katherine found the possibility fascinating (though utterly horrifying), a fact that her mother hadn't failed to notice, leading her to reprimand her daughter for her morbid temperament.

It was as Katherine was removing Mrs. Platt's clothes from the closet that she noticed a loose floorboard, partly pulled back from the floor. She bent down to straighten it, thinking to mention to her father later that the board needed fixing, but then she saw something hidden under it. Katherine lifted up the board, set it aside, then picked up the small wooden box that had been concealed beneath it. Stepping back into the room, Katherine hesitated only a moment before she lifted the lid of the box and looked inside. She found, to her slight surprise, nothing more shocking than two thick stacks of letters, both tied neatly with ribbon.

Katherine froze, her hand already reaching out to unwrap the first bundle. It wasn't really right, looking at someone's personal papers like this. Then again, it wasn't as though Mrs. Platt were in any position to mind the intrusion…Her conscience uneasy, but feeling too curious to resist, Katherine unfolded the letter at the bottom of the first stack—it looked to be the oldest:

_Dear Dr. Cullen,_

_ Since I don't have an address to send this letter to, I won't worry about the impropriety of writing it. However, I really wish I could find out where you've moved, if only so I could thank you again for helping me. My leg has completely healed now, though my mother has been watching me like a hawk, so even if I had the inclination to climb a tree again, I don't have the liberty to._

_ This letter is more for me than for you, I suppose. Ever since our conversation at the hospital, I've been unable to keep the thought of you out of my head for very long, so it's a relief now to even pretend to speak to you, though I know it's very likely that I'll never really see you again. Mother and father think I have a beau hidden somewhere, and I suppose they're right, though the man in question might well have already forgotten me. Whether you remember me or not, I think I'll always remember you, and I am _

_ Your friend,_

_ Esme Platt_

_Dear Dr. Cullen,_

_ I've decided to continue writing to you this way, though I can never expect any response to letters I can't send. My reason is simply that it's a comfort to have someone to talk to, even if our conversation must remain one-sided. Today was a very dull day, but thinking about you, out there somewhere helping people, is enough to raise my spirits slightly._

_ At a party this evening, mother and father made sure that I was introduced to no less than six eligible young men, none of whom interested me in the slightest. I know they're disappointed in my unfavorable reaction to what they consider desirable matches, but I have no wish to get married just yet. I'm convinced that it's not a difference in intelligence so much as entrenched double standards that make people convinced that women aren't fit to go to college. But of course many do, and they excel there, and though I doubt I'll ever have the opportunity, all the things I've read in my life so far have made me wish that I could read more, see more of the world than I ever will if I spend the rest of my life as a housewife in Columbus._

_ Thinking about what seems to be an inescapable fate can only serve to depress me, so tonight I'll turn my thoughts to where you might be—somewhere far from mundane Columbus, I'm certain. Though I'm happy, thinking of you living a more interesting life somewhere, I must confess that it makes me uneasy to imagine who might, even now, be sharing that life with you. But someday, perhaps we'll unexpectedly meet as friends, and if we should both be unattached…well, I can hardly dare to hope for that. In truth, it's the thought of that meeting which seems to make all young men insipid in my eyes. But I can be hopeful about the future just as long as I think of you._

_ Your dear (though unknown) friend,_

_ Esme Platt_

Here, Katherine set what looked to be a year or two's worth of letters aside and picked up the first missive at the top of the second stack:

_Dear Carlisle,_

_ When we met, you told me your name, and I'm very glad of that today, because I can no longer muster the urge to maintain propriety and address you as "Dr. Cullen." These letters have only been my fantasy anyway, and there can be no real lapse in decorum since there has been no real correspondence between us. Carlisle, at my parents' earnest behest, I've become engaged to a man named Charles Evanson. I've never mentioned him to you before, though he's been the most determined of all the men who my parents have encouraged in extending romantic overtures to me, but that was by design. To be perfectly honest, he makes me uneasy. _

_ Charles is, outwardly at least, very friendly, but when he smiles, it never seems to "reach his eyes," as I've read people describe such men in novels. But of course, this is not a novel, Charles is no villain, and though I do not relish our approaching union, I am no persecuted heroine to be rescued, even if anyone _could_ save me from this match so close to its consummation. I agreed to this marriage (though I know almost nothing of Charles' true character) because my mother is very ill—cancer, the doctor suspects—and she all but crawled from her sickbed to beg me to marry Charles. So I'm going to do what I can to make her happy for as long as I'm able, and she has repeatedly insisted, almost tearfully, that she can submit to God's will, whatever it may be, just as long as I'm properly settled first. Having told you this, now I have to say goodbye for good. I have to try to forget you, Carlisle, not in spite of my unhappiness but because of it. Perhaps if I can bring myself to forget your kindness, and your ostensible perfection (which so impressed me at our first and only meeting), I can learn to be happy with Charles, no matter what his shortcomings might prove to be. I will not write to you again, but I will tell you once, and then never again, in this private way so that only I will ever read the words, that I love you, and I wish with all my heart that you were the one I'll soon be walking down the aisle of our church to meet. _

_ Yours forever,_

_ Esme_

The next letter was considerably sloppier than the previous notes, as though its author had written in haste or under some kind of duress:

_Dear Carlisle,_

_ I haven't written in some time, in an attempt to honor my promise to never write to you again, but I can't resist the temptation to confide in someone any longer, even if your sympathy will exist only in my imagination. At first, I told no one out of fear, and some measure of irrational embarrassment, but now I've learned to say nothing because I know I'll only be blamed for the things Charles does to me. Perhaps I'm deluding myself in thinking that even you might pity me when no one else seems to, but I don't think so. In the short time I spoke with you that afternoon so many years ago, you somehow made me feel that you were perhaps the most compassionate person I'd ever met and would ever meet—even then, you seemed unhappy that my parents were pressing me to marry. So I suppose in one respect, I'm glad you're far away from me now: you can't see what's happened to me, so you can't be made miserable by the prospect of my hopelessness._

_ My suspicions about Charles, mentioned only half-seriously in my last letter to you, were really just the tip of the iceberg. I feared that he might prove to be a cold or indifferent husband, never dreaming how cruel he could be, or how unpredictable. Every morning ushers in a new sort of hell, because he's never the same from hour to hour, let alone from day to day, and somehow I've become more frightened of the unknown currents of his moods than the physical violence his presence constantly threatens. When he's at work, that's in some ways worse than having him at home: when the house is quiet, I can enjoy a little peace, but in the hours that he's away, I also have leisure to imagine what fresh horrors await me that night, and as the day wears on, it becomes harder and harder not to cringe or run screaming from the house when I finally hear his footsteps at the door._

_ I tried fighting back at first, but then he hurt me even worse. When I went to my parents, I expected help, comfort even…only to be told that I shouldn't displease my husband. My mother is still alive, as it happens; either the doctor was wrong, or some miracle happened, but her cancer has gone, and she and my father were both pleased the last time they visited to see Charles treating me so well. Of course he treats me well when we have guests—he wouldn't want people to talk—but after everyone has gone home, he drags me to our room, and then thinking about you, afterwards, in the dark, is the only thing that keeps me sane._

_ Every day, I try to find something to be grateful for—I'm unhappy, but I'm alive, and things might improve yet. I'm not referring to the possibility of any material change in Charles' personality occurring, but rather the fact that he'll soon be going away to Europe for the war. He volunteered, because all his friends did, and while other wives fret about the future awaiting their brave husbands across the Atlantic, I'm ashamed to say that I pray every night that he won't come home. Today, I'm grateful that he'll be leaving soon, if only temporarily, and that the new bruises from last night are easily covered by a sweater, so I can venture out to the library and the market without creating a stir. And I'm happy now that I'm allowing myself the freedom to think of you again._

_ Carlisle, I did try to love him. I really did, but now I've finished with trying to feel an emotion that's completely incompatible with this sorry situation. I'm his wife, I can't escape that, for if I ran away, where would I go, and with what money? Even if it might be possible to get away from him, fear has me in such a stranglehold that I'm convinced that it isn't, and I can't seem to convince myself otherwise, no matter what he does. But playing the devoted spouse on the outside doesn't mean that I really have to give my heart to him, as if I ever could after all that's passed. It's still yours, Carlisle. Wherever you are, you very likely don't care, you may be married and have children now, and I truly do wish you happiness. But I will always love you in my own quiet way, though I've very likely conceived a love that's more for a man of my fantasies than one of flesh and blood. _

_I know you can't save me from this, but in a way, the thought of you has already kept me from the deepest depths of misery more times than I can recall. When I think of you, I can imagine that there is someone in this world who might care for me, who might realize that this is not my fault, and just that thought keeps me alive. Carlisle, as long as you are out there somewhere, then there _is_ something in this world good enough to live for, in spite of everything else._

_ Yours in enduring love,_

_ Esme_

_Dear Carlisle,_

_ I'm writing to you from my room in a boarding house here in the town of Ashland. With delight and relief too immense to articulate, I can tell you that Charles isn't with me: he's still in Columbus, I pray without any knowledge of my true whereabouts. Ashland is closer to Columbus than I'd like, of course—it would be a dream come true to leave Ohio behind, but I really can't afford to, and now that I've begun to show, I fear that an unescorted pregnant woman cuts far too conspicuous a figure for safety._

_ Yes, I'm going to have a son or daughter just a few months from now. After everything, in spite of all the pain he caused me, I fear that I really might have stayed with Charles for the rest of my life, or at least the rest of his, if it hadn't been for this child. My fear of trying and failing to run away from him was utterly dwarfed by my fear of bringing a tiny child within the range of my husband's wrath. Honestly, I don't know why I still refer to Charles as my 'husband'—by law I suppose that we are still married, but I sold my wedding ring weeks ago, and it's been years since I thought of him as a wife might be expected to think of her husband. And though he is this child's father, they will never see each other if I have anything to do with it._

_ My fear of encountering Charles here in Ashland has eased slightly in the time I've been here, if only because I've been so busy learning my new duties at the school, where I'm assisting an overworked teacher in instructing the youngest students. This form of employment, which would scandalize my mother if she were in any position to hear of it, allows me to pay for my room and board here and afford what other little things I need—namely, paper to write to you and recently a new dress to accommodate my growing boy or girl. But now I must tell you how it is that my child will never meet his or her grandparents._

_ My mother died a few weeks ago, just before I found out about the baby. To my amazement, I read in the obituary section of the Columbus paper that my father followed her just a few weeks later. I am truly an orphan now, though I've felt like one for several years, and perhaps I haven't quite realized the finality of their absence yet, for I've shed only a few tears, and where there should be grief there is only an odd sort of numbness. I hope that this emotion isn't rooted entirely in resentment, for though I've come to terms with their refusal to step in and confront Charles about his treatment of me, my thoughts turn to something I read recently in a book about famous kings and queens, one of whom said, "I can forgive, but I will never forget."_

_ Perhaps because they never mourned my near emotional and spiritual death at Charles' hands, it should come as little surprise that I'm unable to mourn their bodily passing in a way that most would consider proper, and if that's the case, then so be it. By the standards of conventional society, I'm already a rather unredeemable creature, but in spite of my probable faults (and a growing conviction that agnosticism is more to my taste than my parents' rather harsh brand of Christianity), I'm going to have my son or daughter baptized here in Ashland, if only to avoid the talk that not doing so would generate. If it's a girl, then I plan to name her Ruth, after a favorite cousin who died when I was a girl. But if my child is a boy, I'm going to call him Carlisle, and though my mind tries to tell me how ridiculous it is to even hope of ever seeing you again, my heart refuses to relinquish the wonderful picture it's conjured of the three of us living together as a family. Of course, this is only a dream I indulge in at idle moments or when my spirits are especially low, but it's very precious to me just the same. Carlisle, I love you, and even if it is unlikely almost to the point of impossibility, I can't stop imagining the moment when I might meet you again, perhaps with my son or daughter in my arms._

_ Yours with hope and love,_

_ Esme_

Then Katherine turned to the last letter in the pile, a few sheets below the previous note:

_Carlisle,_

_ He's gone, so I have to go too. I love you,_

_ Esme_

Katherine shivered—this must have been finished just before its writer died. It seemed amazing that Esme, in her despair, had even taken the time to write down her intention to die and add it to the other letters directed to the absent man she'd loved. Perhaps she'd done it while she was waiting to be left alone; Katherine remembered then that a nurse had helped her home from the hospital and had stayed with Mrs. Platt (who Katherine now knew was really called Mrs. Evanson) at the behest of a doctor who'd worried that the bereft mother might be a danger to herself. But by all accounts, Mrs. Platt had been calm, and so the nurse had gone home. That was when the teacher had made her way to the cliff, the little box that held her son's ashes cradled in her arms.

Katherine hesitated for a few moments, gazing uncertainly at the two stacks of letters, but then she returned them to their box and set it on the bed beside her. Of course the right thing to do would be to burn all of them—she was sure that the writer of such missives would never have wished them to be found, and Katherine was loathe to expose Ms. Platt's private thoughts to anyone. Still, she hesitated.

Ms. Platt's sad story was over now, and no one needed to know the details—they would only be fodder for gossip if widely circulated. Regardless of the manner of her death, and the circumstances of her life leading up to it, Katherine had been fond of Ms. Platt, as had nearly all who'd known her. Obviously, no one else could ever see these letters—the teacher's reputation would be ruined if people knew who she'd been and how she'd run away from her husband—but did it follow that they had to be destroyed? Katherine made a decision then: she would hide the letters as Esme had done. She would keep their secret, and who knew—maybe someday she would meet the man they'd been written for. But as Katherine hurried to her room to secrete the box within her own closet, she had to wonder: what had ever happened to the man named Carlisle, and did he even remember Esme?

One last thing—let me know if you think that Carlisle or Esme should ever recover these letters somehow…


	48. Unique

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone! Sorry I'm only posting these when the day's almost over, but I figured that everyone could enjoy a last minute Christmas present that way.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight." I am not. You probably already knew that though.

_1724_: Unique

Aro's POV

"America," Aro sighed wearily. "You do realize that there are plenty of regions of lawless wilderness to be found right here in Europe, don't you?"

"I'm well aware of that, thank you, Aro," Carlisle said drily. "I'll be sure to write you as soon as I find a street that's lined with shops and theaters instead of mud and livestock, or have I mistaken your impression of the newly formed United States?"

"No, the preponderance of dirt and cattle describes my impression exactly," Aro said with another sigh. The two of them were walking in the woods, just outside the walls of Volterra, and Carlisle, it seemed, was quite set upon leaving for the new world within a fortnight. "Of course, if you resolve to never write until you find a place devoid of such things, then I daresay I shall never hear from you again."

Carlisle smiled. "Aro, I've heard that there are a number of cities there that are perfectly habitable, charming even, in a rustic sort of way. Besides, I don't mind cattle, a fact you tease me about every time the hunting here grows a bit thin."

"Perhaps you can jest about your new home, but for my part, I can summon precious little optimism about the cultural wasteland you're about to exile yourself to. If you will insist on leaving, why not at least go back to England? By all accounts, it's improved dramatically in the past few decades."

"But it's still England," Carlisle said firmly. "All advances aside, I'd venture that it's still much the same place it's been for centuries. America, however, is brand new—young—and as you so delight in reminding me, so am I. It seems only fitting that I go there to gain a little age and experience. I can observe the country mature at the same time I do."

"It's just disheartening to think of you there, all alone," Aro said sadly. "Carlisle, you know that I speak as your friend when I tell you that your choice of prey must inevitably isolate you from the rest of our kind. Not that I've ever been able to sway you on this matter before," he muttered grimly.

"I don't think it's necessarily true that just because you've never encountered another immortal like me, it follows that that they don't exist," Carlisle said quietly. "There may be others—"

"Carlisle, I think it _exceedingly_ unlikely that there are others who observe your unnatural dietary restrictions," Aro said, amused in spite of his weariness of the subject. "You are, as I have told you so many times, one of a kind. Your dedication to your chosen eating habits, however strange and provoking others of our kind may find them, have always impressed me, to the point that I'm convinced you are unique. But the eccentricity I enjoy has a way of alienating you among other immortals, does it not?"

Carlisle was silent for a moment. "I suspect that you're the only one who truly regrets my planning to leave Volterra," he said finally.

"And do you really believe that you will be received any differently by those of our kind across the Atlantic?" Aro demanded. "Carlisle, I must try one last time to impress upon you the absurdity of your going on like this. You are a vampire. Pretending to be human isn't going to change that."

"I'm not pretending to be human, Aro," Carlisle said, stopping and turning to face him, his voice still calm but very determined now. "I know what I am. I just don't believe that in gaining immortality, I have to lose my humanity."

Aro snorted. "Again, your resolve is admirable, though at some moments, like this one, your conduct seems to be more the stuff of stubbornness than dedication to a personal commitment."

"You've been a good friend to me, Aro, and I apologize for leaving without properly repaying you for your kindness," Carlisle said, smiling again. "Come and visit me after I've accumulated a bit of wealth and property so I can host you in the manner you're accustomed to."

"Just give it a century or two, and you'll be nearly as well off as I am, and you'll care just as little as I do about wealth," Aro said with another snort. The idea of leaving Volterra to visit America was off-putting, almost offensive, though nothing about Carlisle's plans could equal the strangeness of what he planned to do to make a living.

"Going to America to practice _medicine_," he mused as they stepped out of the forest to find the sky still thick with clouds. "Promising to do your patients no harm when your very nature demands the reverse. I know little about the weather there—will you have to work at night?"

"I plan to, at first anyway," Carlisle said with a shrug. "I'll stick to well-populated areas where I might hope to blend in to some degree, and then eventually I might try to find a place cloudy enough that working during the day might be possible."

"And how long do you plan on living this way?" Aro wondered. "How many years will you spend on this bizarre experiment before you come back?"

"You know that I don't plan on coming back, Aro," Carlisle said quietly. "I might visit, but—"

"You believe in the law," Aro said wearily. "But you don't like to watch the way we administer justice here, do you?"

Carlisle sighed. "You know it's more than that, Aro. The way I live is…different from what the rest of you have chosen—"

"For anyone with less than your superior self-control, there was no _choice_ involved at all as a young vampire thirsty for blood," Aro chuckled. "However, I suppose I understand you—living here as long as you have, you have seen the essential savagery that lurks beneath the gentile exterior of Volterra, and you long for something different. What I wish that I could make you understand is that there _is_ nothing else. This is what we are, and it's foolish of you to deny that."

"Then I plan to remain foolish," Carlisle murmured.

"And do you truly relish the thought of spending the rest of your days this way?" Aro demanded. "No coven, no mate, nothing but your principles to keep you company?"

For a moment, Aro thought that Carlisle was going to argue, but then, without answering, he turned back toward Volterra.

"I need to pack," he said quietly, not looking back.

Aro laughed humorlessly. It seemed that Carlisle too believed that he might remain alone forever, though he didn't want to admit the possibility. Still, the idea of others like the odd Dr. Cullen wasn't an unpleasant one. If he could only find a wife who shared his strange views, he might well be happy, even in America.

"After all, things may turn out well for you yet, my friend," Aro said quietly, and then he followed Carlisle back to Volterra.


	49. Flowers

Merry Christmas again! This chapter starts out sad but ends on a happy note; it takes place a few hours after a scene that Esme describes to Rosalie all the way back in chapter five. (Wow, that was a while ago…) Anyway, the aforementioned scene involved Esme lashing out at Carlisle during Edward's absence and the kind of insecurities that this might have forced both of them to examine. Hope you enjoy, and if you get a chance, reviews make a perfectly lovely Christmas gift.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer (not I) is the author of "Twilight," a fact of which you were probably already aware.

_1929_: Flowers

Carlisle's POV

Though his day at the hospital had been mercifully uneventful, it had seemed like a long one to Carlisle, given how anxious he was to get home. He was still shaken by what had happened the night before: he was fairly certain that the image of Esme, provoked as she'd been by thirst into shouting at him to leave her alone was something that he was never going to forget. And when she'd run off into the forest, he'd simply stood where she'd left him, too shocked to even go after her, and he'd ended up standing in that same place for hours, oblivious to the rain pouring down on him, the onset of night—to everything really, until she'd returned. And then he'd gone inside without a word, because he could think of nothing to say to her. To Carlisle, it had seemed clear that Esme was unhappy, enough so that she was going to leave, just like Edward had, and the thought had all but paralyzed him with grief at the loss of his family and fear at the thought of returning to his solitary life. Because without Esme, what was the point of staying hopeful, of trying to convince himself that Edward would come back? If she didn't love him anymore, then what was the point of anything?

She'd followed him into their room, and he'd apologized to her over and over again, though he'd been unable to do anything more than repeat 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' again and again—he couldn't think of any words that could properly convey how wretched he felt at the thought of her being discontent with her life with him, of wanting to leave, though he knew that he would let her do just that if it would make her happy again. To his amazement, she'd actually tried to comfort him—_she'd_ apologized for her outburst, and the part of him that could still be rational (as opposed to simply sick with grief at the thought of losing her) could believe her when she said she hadn't meant it, that thirst alone had spoken for her, and the last thing she wanted was to be away from him.

He'd had to go back to work for another shift after that, and when he gently kissed her goodbye, he was outwardly calm, but inwardly, he'd been half-mad with anxiety. All day, he'd wondered if she'd even still be there when he got home—Edward had left will little more in the way of warning after all. Even worse was the thought of Esme staying with him in spite of her being unhappy, and though the lucid part of his mind chimed in again to suggest that he'd feel better as soon as they talked everything over, the emotional part of him couldn't help but dread what might be waiting for him at the end of the day, or rather, who might not be.

At noon, when he usually pretended to eat lunch, and instead read in his office, Carlisle walked into town and bought a dozen roses—they were expensive, given that it was December, and the clerk looked at him as though he were slightly crazy when he asked for the flowers, but Carlisle paid without batting an eye. Then he slipped into the forest and ran home, but didn't go inside when he got there. Instead, he laid the flowers on the doorstep, knocked softly on the door, and then ran back to work before Esme could hear him and come outside.

On the whole, it was a very unpleasant day, and Carlisle understood why: when Edward had left, Carlisle had had some warning, and Esme had shared his fears about their son's intentions. But Esme's anger the night before had caught him completely off guard. Yes, she'd been thirsty, but rather than leading her to say something she didn't mean, what if thirst had prompted her to admit the truth: what if she really didn't want him anymore? He obviously wasn't much of a father, and it was beginning to look like he wasn't much of a husband either…

Carlisle shook his head and sighed—it had started to rain again, which did little to help his feeble attempts to rouse himself from feelings of unease and self pity. It was already dark, and after he'd parked in front of the house, he took his time moving to the front door: love, it seemed, had made him into a coward, because before knowing Esme and Edward, he'd never been afraid like this, never worried about what he'd find when he returned to his lodgings after work. Of course, he'd never had much of anything to lose before.

He opened the door and took an unsteady breath of relief when he realized that there was a candle burning somewhere in the house—on the second floor, it smelled like. And then, before he could even register the speed of her approach, Esme was in front of him, she'd wrapped her arms around him, and she was kissing him frantically.

For a split second, Carlisle tried to convince himself that they should wait, that they should talk and then do this, but then it dawned on him that the very fact that she was kissing him—that she'd _run_ to kiss him—seemed to indicate that she really didn't want to leave. All his fears, which had seemed so plausible when he'd been at work, now seemed perfectly ridiculous, and with that thought in mind, he dropped his bag, scooped Esme up in his arms, and ran up the stairs, grinning when he felt her fingers ripping through his clothes.

"Thank you for the roses, by the way," she said a few hours later. The candle that she'd left on her dresser had burnt out some time ago, but neither of them had noticed. "It was very sweet of you, though I wish I could convince you that I was the one who was in the wrong."

"You were thirsty," Carlisle said, smiling as she shifted so their heads were on the same pillow, their faces nearly touching. "You told me so as soon as you came back, and I knew that you needed to hunt. Today, I just had a hard time believing that that was the only reason you were so upset."

Esme's expression was curious now. "Carlisle, yesterday I shouted at you and you were the first to apologize! Why on earth would I be upset with you?"

Carlisle sighed—though he'd been dwelling on the possibility all day, he was still loath to mention it aloud. "I was afraid that…when you left last night, I really thought that you might have left for good. I thought that you might have started to feel…regret, the way Edward does, about the way I forced this life upon you, and that perhaps you were abruptly eager to leave."

Esme was perfectly still for a moment. "I was afraid that possibility might occur to you," she whispered at last, "but did you really believe that I could just leave like that?"

Carlisle shook his head, stricken again by her pained expression. "That's what I almost expected the first time you opened your eyes after the change was complete. I did hope that you wouldn't utterly detest me, but I was more relieved than I can describe that you could even stand the sight of me after what I'd done! And then, when you said you'd marry me…it's always seemed like far more happiness than I deserved."

"And since Edward left, you've been worrying that I might want to leave too?" she said quietly. "Oh, Carlisle…"

She wrapped her arms around him again, and he laid his head against her shoulder, breathing deeply, wanting the scent of her to surround him, to convince him how baseless all his fears had been.

"I'm not leaving," she said slowly, running her hands through his hair. "Not ever. Do you believe me when I tell you that?"

"Yes," he said, sighing gratefully. "But it's easy to believe you when you're around to tell me. As soon as I'm away from you, I can think of a hundred reasons to doubt that I could really be so dear to you."

He heard Esme chuckle rather sadly. "I feel the same way some days, you know. Especially now…" She trailed off, and Carlisle hugged her tightly, wishing that he knew what to say. Two years—it had been almost two years to the day that Edward had left.

"We've both had a bad week," he realized, sitting up to look down into her face. "Esme, I'm—"

"If you tell me you're sorry again, you'll really be sorry," she said darkly, and he grinned at her tone as much at the joke. "Carlisle, I think we've both been trying so hard not to show each other how unhappy we've been with Edward gone that we've only ended up making each other more miserable. From now on, let's just try to be honest about how we feel instead of bottling things up until we can't keep from saying something we'd regret…not that you've ever done that," she finished ruefully.

Carlisle kissed her again. "Not yet, so I'll promise you that the next time I'm troubled about something, I'll tell you about it before I drive myself to distraction with worry."

Esme laughed as he leaned down to kiss her fingertips, then smiled and nodded toward the dresser. Carlisle looked and saw that she'd put the flowers he'd bought her in a vase beside her mirror—he hadn't noticed them before, with Esme's far superior attributes to occupy him.

"Thank you again," she said quietly, "for making me feel like the luckiest woman in the woman in the world, even when I'm not sure I deserve it. But the next time I get angry with you, please don't buy me flowers."

"Duly noted," Carlisle chuckled, pulling her close again. Outside the rain had turned to snow; it was almost the end of another year, and Carlisle wondered if this time next year, he and Esme would still be alone like this…or if by then, Edward would finally be home again.


	50. Tradition

One more time, Merry Christmas! (Here now is an actual Christmas chapter :)). See you next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and Christmas cookies are _excellent_.

_2007_: Tradition

Esme's POV

Nessie had fallen asleep on the sofa, so Esme carried her up to the room she usually slept in when Renée was visiting, knowing that Nessie would be excited to see her human grandmother first thing in the morning. It wasn't really safe for Renée to visit very often, but she'd come for Christmas this year, and everyone was happy to see her, especially Nessie: her own accelerated aging process seemed to make her more aware of the mortality of the humans she loved.

When Esme got back downstairs, the living room was deserted except for Carlisle, who was staring out the window, watching the snow fall.

"There's almost another foot out there," he said, putting his arms around her when she came to stand in front of him and watch the snow herself. "As soon as Nessie wakes up, she's going to be recruited for a memorable snowball fight."

"Maybe Jake and the pack will be over too," Esme said, leaning back against his chest and smiling when she felt him kiss the top of her head. "It's probably risky for them to be out in the snow at La Push, since it melts as soon as it touches them."

"Not that the risk of attracting attention stopped them from going swimming while it was sleeting last weekend," Carlisle chuckled. "As long as they stay on Quileute land, they know their secrets are safe. Coming here though, they might worry, what with Renée visiting."

"Jacob at least will be here tomorrow," Esme said, happy at the prospect. "I heard Nessie call him earlier—she told him he needs to come over and help Grandma Renée eat leftovers."

Carlisle laughed, but then he was silent for a few moments. When Esme turned to look at him, she found that he was staring at her, his expression dominated by a sort of rapt smile she knew well.

"What?" she wondered, grinning at his expression. It was always a little humbling to find him looking at her that way, like he couldn't believe his good luck.

"I was just thinking about all the different ways we've celebrated Christmas over the years," he said softly, "and almost every year, I've thought that that was the best year ever, but this year, I'm sure of it. _This_ year was the best."

"And you're going to feel the same way next year too," Esme said, leaning up to kiss him gently. Then she glanced at a pile of Nessie's gifts that Bella planned to take back to the cottage the next day. "You know, I can think of a lot of ways that we're very lucky, but Nessie's certainly been one of the biggest and best surprises of our lives so far."

Carlisle followed her gaze and nodded. "Any other child on earth would have been spoiled rotten by now with a family like ours, but as much as she liked her presents today, she seemed happiest just to see some of her human family."

"Charlie seemed a little shocked by how many boxes she had to open," Esme chuckled. "Of course, he had as many gifts for her as any of her aunts and uncles did."

"And her other grandparents," Carlisle pointed out with a grin. "The next time we take a trip to Seattle, I daresay we'll need to start shopping for Nessie's birthday."

Esme swatted at his arms playfully and laughed at a sudden attempt on Carlisle's part to tickle her, and then she took his hands and pulled him over to the sofa beside the tree, the top of which nearly scraped the high ceiling.

"Alice," she sighed, amused but impressed as she so often was by the extent Alice's decorating skills. "I still can't believe she even managed to fit this through the door."

"I think she had to pull off a few of the bottom branches in the end," Carlisle said, shaking his head. "You know, I never could have imagined anything like this just a few years ago, let alone when I was Nessie's age. Well, the age she looks."

Esme nodded. "I remember reading once that Christmas wasn't very widely celebrated as little as two centuries ago. I know that when I was a girl, I read "A Christmas Carol" every year and hoped that I might get a new dress or book from my parents, but that was really all in terms of celebration."

"My father would given a sermon, but that's all I can remember doing," Carlisle agreed, his expression thoughtful. "Though I suppose the fact that many Christmas traditions are rather pagan in appearance may have had something to do with that. I barely noted the holiday at all until I found Edward, but after that, I started to enjoy it, even more so once you entered our lives."

Esme laughed. "Are you referring to the fact that I insisted upon decorating every room of the house we lived in that first Christmas, or are you trying to remind me of the year that I didn't know what to get you and ended up buying a new bed for the express purpose of helping you destroy it?"

"…yes," Carlisle said, trying and failing to smile innocently. Laughing again, Esme pushed him back toward the arm of the couch and was about to kiss him when she noticed what was hanging in the doorway to the dining room.

"What is it?" he whispered, following her immediately when she stood up and led him toward the other room.

"Neither of us had many Christmas traditions when we were younger," she said playfully, pulling him down toward her again, "so it's nice to enjoy them in our relative old age."

Carlisle chuckled as he kissed her under the sprig of mistletoe Alice had hung from the doorframe, and as he did, Esme thought of how every day with Carlisle was worth celebrating. Kissing like this, enjoying every moment they had together, were traditions that she hoped would last forever.


	51. Patience

Happy Monday and Happy (belated) New Year! I forgot to mention this when I posted chapters on Christmas (yikes, that was a while ago now), but due to the enthusiastic response I got for chapter forty-seven, I'll definitely have Carlisle recover and read Esme's letters at some point. Thanks so much for all your great reviews, and here's the first of two chapters today (this semester, I don't have class or work on Mondays, so look for Monday updates ). Quick note on this one: it focuses on Rosalie, and how her relationship with Esme might have helped to temper her initial hatred of Carlisle (if only slightly).

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and did you know that there are only 169 more days until "Eclipse"? (And there are even fewer days until "New Moon" comes out on DVD! Huzzah!)

_1934_: Patience

Rosalie's POV

Esme was out shopping, and Edward had gone to the library, so much to her irritation, Rosalie had no one but Carlisle to help her with the fastenings of the dress she was trying on in preparation for her first day at school. Normally, Rosalie would have waited for Esme to return, or she might have even asked Edward if he came home first, but under the circumstances, her dislike of Carlisle was overcome by her impatience to make sure that the dress fit as perfectly as she remembered it had in the shop. It was a lovely shade of blue, and the cut was such that though Esme hadn't exactly disapproved of it, she'd implied that her own mother would have been scandalized by such a dress. Rosalie had thought privately that her own mother's reaction would have been one of equal shock, but thinking about her parents was never productive, so she'd bought the dress both as an act of rebellion and in an attempt to appear carefree. After all, she'd been a Cullen for over a year now, and experience had taught her that no displays of bad temper or sullenness could change that.

The dress, in addition to being rather short, was made of a beautiful, though rather flimsy fabric. As a human, Rosalie would have worried that it would be too cold to wear such a gown in the middle of winter, but now she was only concerned with inadvertently destroying the delicate clasps that held it together, as she had with so many dresses before it. That fear led her (slowly and reluctantly) to seek out someone she'd spent most of her immortal life so far trying to ignore.

As she made her way toward Carlisle's office, another thought occurred to her: perhaps here, at last, was a chance to irritate the infuriatingly calm Dr. Cullen, who, despite Rosalie's best efforts, had yet to react to her angry outbursts and accusations with anything but tolerance and quiet acceptance. No one born in the seventeenth century as Carlisle had been, Rosalie reasoned, could possibly approve of _this_ dress.

"Yes?" Carlisle called as she opened the door and stepped into the room—Rosalie thought it was slightly ironic that as the member of the family who liked him least, she was the only one who ever entered his study without knocking first. Of course, part of the affection that Edward and Esme felt for Carlisle was shown through respect for his privacy, but as usual, Carlisle didn't seem bothered by her abruptness.

"Rosalie," he said, nodding at her and smiling gently. Another annoying thing about Carlisle: he never went out of his way to ingratiate himself with her, but neither did he ever stop being friendly, in spite of countless past rebuffs on Rosalie's part that had made her dislike very clear. "Did you need something?"

"Fasten this for me," she said curtly, raising her eyebrows and nodding at the dress before turning her back. To her further irritation, his expression hadn't changed at the sight of her outfit, and he didn't comment when, as soon as she felt the fastenings close, she plucked a small mirror from the top of his desk and examined her reflection.

"I'm going to wear this to school tomorrow," she said idly, glancing at him as he returned to the chair behind his desk. Again, no reaction but that gracious smile, though his expression was slightly concerned now.

"And you're quite sure, Rosalie, that—"

"I'm not going to hurt anyone," she snapped, but then she smiled grimly. "I've gotten all that out of my system."

He nodded, his expression steady, but she saw him wince a little at her casual allusion to what she'd done in Rochester.

"I'm sorry that I discouraged you before," he said suddenly. "But I do think you're ready this time."

Rosalie frowned at the reminder of her last attempt to start school—she'd been just six months old at the time, and Edward had had to all but drag her home after she'd caught her first whiff of their classmates. She was about to leave the office in a huff (which was really the only way she ever left a room that Carlisle occupied) when he spoke again.

"Here," Carlisle said suddenly, opening the top drawer of his desk and producing a small box. "For school tomorrow."

Rosalie frowned. It was galling enough, living in his house and knowing that she was spending his money every time she went shopping, but having him give her gifts was beyond irritating. However, Rosalie suppressed the urge to toss the box away—she was too curious to stop herself from opening it. Inside, she was surprised to find a small silver bracelet, set with stones the same color as her dress.

"Esme picked it out," Carlisle said, his voice almost apologetic.

Rosalie had already slipped the bracelet on, but when she heard this, she struggled to stop herself from tearing it off. This was fast becoming a familiar tactic on the part of her adopted mother: Rosalie knew that her unshakeable dislike of Carlisle pained Esme more than she wanted to admit, so in the past few months, she'd taken to trying to help win Rosalie's favor for her husband through gifts. Of course, Esme's strategy wasn't really so simplistic—trinkets like this bracelet were just a means of prolonging a conversation between her daughter and her husband. They were Esme's attempt to coax Rosalie into behaving almost civilly to Carlisle, which she always did in these situations, though not for his sake, of course, but for Esme's. Having known her for nearly a year now, there were moments now when Rosalie could feel that her fondness for Esme could almost overcome her loathing of Carlisle. Almost.

"I'll be sure to thank her for it then," Rosalie said coolly, unable to keep the note of disdain out of her voice. "It was nice of you to hold onto it for her while she's out shopping."

Carlisle nodded, obviously unsurprised by her reaction, and as usual, Rosalie was more annoyed by his calm acceptance of her determined antipathy than she thought she would have been if he'd even once risen to her attempts to anger him. Without a word, she turned to leave, and she heard Carlisle return to whatever book he'd set aside to speak with her. As she was about to leave, she noticed the calendar on the wall and sighed when she saw the date.

She thought about Esme, who was so eager for her to somehow learn to like a person she'd resolved to hate forever: Carlisle had apologized for changing her without her consent on more than one occasion, but what good had that done? 'Sorry' wasn't going to make her human again—nothing could…including hating Carlisle and upsetting Esme as a result.

That thought made Rosalie pause uneasily by the door. She wasn't ready to stop hating Carlisle—she'd killed the villains she'd known in life, and now, in death, she needed someone to be responsible for her unhappiness. Without that, it would be harder to justify why she stayed with the Cullens. It was far easier to tell herself that she stayed because in changing her, Carlisle had made himself responsible for her, and worthy of all her bad moods, than it would be to admit to herself that she stayed because she would have been lonely without them, that she loved Esme as a second mother, and because she wanted to be part of a family—even if she could barely stand two of the three other Cullens.

Finally, Rosalie reached a compromise with herself: she could _pretend_ to be kind to him, occasionally, but only for Esme's sake. That thought was what made her speak to Carlisle again.

"Edward told me the significance of tomorrow's date," she said stiffly, not looking at him. "In case I don't see you, happy anniversary."

Before he could respond, Rosalie left the office and shut the door behind her. _There, I was _nice_ to him, Esme_, she thought, her disgust lessening slightly at the sight of her new bracelet—she felt certain that no amount of jewelry or other such bribes were ever going to make Carlisle seem less hateful to her, but Esme's strategy certainly had its benefits, Edward had told her more than once that Carlisle had the patience of a saint, but Rosalie was determined: in a few decades, she imagined that she might be able to endure his company, but for the foreseeable future at least, she was resolved to make her dislike of Carlisle as obvious as possible. After saying something so civil, almost _kind_ to him today, Rosalie decided that she wasn't going to speak to him again for at least a week.


	52. Example

Hi again! The following chapter takes place shortly after Emmett wakes up as a vampire. (It was fun to think about his initial reactions to the Cullens and how Carlisle and Esme's relationship might have led him to consider the kind of life he wanted to share with Rosalie). Thanks again for your wonderful reviews, and look for two new chapters next Monday. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer (who is awesome) is the author of "Twilight."

_1935_: Example

Emmett's POV

"Here's your room," Rosalie said, nodding at the nearly empty bedroom. "The bed is…just for show."

Emmett frowned. "What, do we turn into bats during the day? Hang from the ceiling?"

Rosalie laughed, and Emmett grinned—he'd known her for maybe an hour now, but it was becoming increasingly difficult not to try and kiss her. "No, we…most of the stories about us aren't true. We actually never sleep."

"Oh," Emmett said, startled. "I guess…that's less weird than turning into a bat."

"But it's still weird," Rosalie said quickly.

They stood in the doorway in uncertain silence for a moment.

"So," Emmett said, struggling to think of something to stay as opposed to staring at her mutely like an idiot, though he noticed happily that Rosalie was staring at him too. "Carlisle and Esme are sort of like your parents?"

Rosalie made a face and shrugged. "Sort of," she said hesitantly. "I mean, Esme's wonderful, and Carlisle…"

"He saved me," Emmett said, smiling at her. "I mean, after you did."

Rosalie nodded, still staring at him. "Right now, I'm feeling more kindly disposed toward him than usual…I mean, for changing you."

Both of them jumped slightly when they heard Edward clear his throat loudly (and unnecessarily) from the hallway. Emmett was surprised, what with his newfound enhanced senses, that he hadn't heard the other vampire coming, but Rosalie _was_ very distracting…

"Here are some more clothes," Edward announced, handing him a stack of what looked like an assortment of shirts and pants. On top of the pile, there was even a jacket.

"What's this for?" Emmett wondered, unfolding the coat. "I thought we didn't get cold."

"We don't," Edward said. "But eventually, when you're safe enough to be around humans again, you'll have to wear it. We're conspicuous if we go out in a blizzard in shirtsleeves."

"Thanks," Emmett said, grinning at the thought of never actually needing a coat again.

"Yes, thank you, Edward," Rosalie said impatiently. "Esme's back from shopping, I take it?"

"She left the keys on the table in the front hall," Edward said. Emmett felt his smile widen when Rosalie met his eyes again.

"Do you want anything?" she asked.

Emmett raised his eyebrows.

"From the store," she amended quickly, looking more pleased than embarrassed that he'd read something different into her words than what she'd meant. "I…since you won't be able to go out for a while, I thought I'd go buy a few games or…puzzles…" she finished half-heartedly.

"Sure, whatever you think I'd like," Emmett said easily. He'd been about to ask her to get a few things if she'd be stopping to buy food too while she was out, but then he remembered that he couldn't eat human food anymore. The deer he'd had earlier had tasted all right though, so maybe he'd get used to that part of being immortal faster than he'd thought he would when Carlisle first mentioned their diet. Keeping himself occupied while under a sort of house arrest might be difficult though…unless Rosalie liked him as well as he hoped she did.

Rosalie nodded. "Okay. I'll be back in an hour or two then." She stood in the doorway for a moment longer, staring at him, and then she raced down the stairs and disappeared out the front door.

"She's really fast," Emmett said appreciatively, though he'd been more impressed with how her dress moved when she ran than the extent of her speed. He wondered warily if Rosalie was trying to avoid Edward for some reason…

Edward nodded, looking faintly ill. "Yeah, except 'fast' isn't really the word you're looking for."

Emmett grinned, realizing that he'd forgotten all about the mind-reading thing. "Sorry. But she really is beautiful…"

"Could you _please_ try not to think about it though?" Edward said grimly, though he seemed to guess that this was easier said than done. "And yes, she's trying to avoid me, though she usually does that, but she was also in a hurry to go shopping for herself. You didn't hear it from me, but apparently the contents of her wardrobe don't seem good enough for present company."

Emmett grinned again. "Well, that's encouraging." Then a remote, but unpleasant possibility occurred to him.

To his relief, Edward snorted with laughter before he had to ask the question aloud. "No, I have no interest in Rosalie whatsoever, Emmett," he said firmly. "And she can barely stand me, so don't worry."

"Thanks," Emmett said, abruptly eager for Rosalie to come back.

"We can go downstairs and wait for her if you promise not to think about her too graphically," Edward said quickly, and Emmett laughed as he followed him downstairs. _No promises_, he thought, and Edward sighed.

As they moved into the living room, Emmett turned hopefully as the front door opened, but saw that it was only Carlisle, returning from his shift at the hospital. Esme emerged from the back porch, where she'd been painting, and smiled at Emmett and Edward before turning to her husband. As they kissed each other (briefly—probably for Edward's sake, Emmett guessed), Emmett could see very clearly that he wanted what they had. From what little he'd learned about her so far, Emmett understood that Rosalie had never really relished her immortality. But here were Carlisle and Esme, two people who were enjoying this life, together, and Emmett hoped that with Rosalie, he could follow their example.


	53. Regret

Happy Monday, everyone! (And Happy Martin Luther King Day :) ). One quick note: if you get a chance, I have, at long last, posted some Twilight fanart on deviantart. (I finally found a working scanner! Yay!) Here's my page: .com

So, if you'd like to take a look, that would be nifty. (I don't think that anything there is likely to cause _permanent_ retinal damage…) I'm rereading "Eclipse" right now, so this chapter is set near the end of "Eclipse" (a few days before the epilogue). ONLY 162 MORE DAYS!!!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of Twilight, and that's pretty dang cool.

_2006_: Regret

Bella's POV

I was surprised, and Charlie seemed really happy, when Edward caught a ride with Carlisle over to our house the Saturday after I'd last spoken to Jacob. I think Charlie could tell that something more was going on than what I'd told him (though my being engaged to Edward was probably too horrifying a possibility for him to contemplate), and maybe he thought he could ask Carlisle if he knew anything. As it turned out though, Carlisle himself almost immediately made this impossible.

"Like a beer or something?" Charlie offered when Edward and Carlisle had stepped inside.

"No, thank you, Charlie," Carlisle said easily, though the offer made me want to smile. I was about to ask Edward why Carlisle had given him a ride, but then he shook his head to silence me and nodded in the direction of our fathers.

"Edward was having car trouble this morning, so I thought I'd drop him off on my way out to La Push," Carlisle said, smiling at me. "Like to ride out with me, Bella?"

I froze, and fought the urge to glare at Edward, or at least look at him for an explanation—he seemed to sense my shock, because he squeezed my hand very gently, almost as if he were apologizing. He'd put Carlisle up to this, I was sure of that much, and I could guess why; Edward hadn't said anything, but knowing me, I'd probably been talking about Jacob in my sleep. During the day, I tried not to mention my best friend, but at night, there was no way I could stop myself from involuntary ramblings about the worries that haunted my dreams.

"Do you think he'll be asleep?" I asked after a moment. It would be too hard to talk to Jacob again so soon, and I wasn't sure when it might feel easy again, if it ever would, but if he were sleeping…just getting to look in on him, to see that he was healing okay, would be a huge relief. That, I guessed, was what Edward was hoping for—he knew that nothing he or anyone else could say would reassure me like seeing Jacob would.

"Almost certainly," Carlisle said, and he smiled when I relaxed my tense posture slightly. "I've got him on some pretty powerful painkillers, but if you'd like to see him anyway—"

"Sure," I said quickly, before I could change my mind. When I glanced at Edward uncertainly, wondering how he was going to occupy himself while we were gone, he smiled.

"Charlie and I can watch the game," he said, kissing my forehead. I saw Charlie make a face out of the corner of my eye, but he looked pleased when I moved past him to grab my raincoat from the hall closet—since Edward and Carlisle had arrived, it had started pouring again.

"Say hi to Billy for me," Charlie told me, and when he'd said goodbye to Carlisle, he moved toward the living room, Edward behind him. For a split second, I wondered if Charlie's good mood meant that he was holding out hope of me choosing Jacob after all, but then I decided that just my being away from Edward for a little while was enough to make him happy. As I slid into Carlisle's Mercedes, I smiled grimly at the thought of Charlie's reaction if he'd known I was spending time with my future father-in-law.

* * *

By the time we got to La Push, the rain had almost stopped. It had taken just a few minutes to get there—Carlisle drove almost as fast as Edward did.

"I'm beginning to think that it's impossible for anyone named Cullen to obey the speed limit," I said lightly, trying to ignore the edginess I felt at the thought of how soon I'd be taking that name myself.

Carlisle laughed as he parked outside the Blacks' house. "You may be right. Other than Edward and Alice though, we've all been stopped for speeding before. Rose has never gotten a ticket, however."

"That makes sense," I said, pitying any poor cop who might happen to stop Rosalie—as beautiful as she was, I imagined how threatening Rose could be when she got angry.

We were almost at the front door when I took a step into a small patch of mud and almost landed on my face. Carlisle, not bothering to move at human speed—anyone watching would already know what he was anyway—moved to my side, caught me, and pulled me gently to my feet almost before my comparatively sluggish human brain even realized I was falling.

"Thanks," I said, watching the ground for puddles more carefully now. "I'm really not going to miss that part of being—" But then I stopped talking when I saw Sam waiting in the open doorway, watching us. I was surprised to see him, and for an instant, Carlisle looked startled too, but then his face relaxed into a smile.

"Hello, Sam," he said pleasantly. "How is he today?"

"Good," Sam said, glancing at me as I stepped inside after Carlisle, his expression almost suspicious. "He's asleep at the moment."

Carlisle nodded. "Judging by how fast he's healed so far, he should be up and around in another day or two. I'll give him a smaller dose of morphine today, and then tomorrow might be the last day he needs any."

Sam seemed tense about something, but he smiled when he heard this. "Good to hear," he said simply, then stood aside for us to pass through the small living room. It felt awkward being here, and not just because Sam was still staring at me, but because it made me think of all the time I'd spent here with Jacob, and how much fun we'd had together. After my last visit, I'd known things would be different between us, but I hadn't expected to enter this familiar house and feel almost like a stranger.

There was another surprise waiting around the corner: Embry was leaning against the wall of the tiny hallway opposite Jacob's open door, and I could see Quil standing by the window in Jacob's bedroom, where I was relieved to hear snoring.

I didn't need either Edward's or Jasper's talents to know that Jacob's best friends weren't thrilled to see me. They didn't speak to me, so I didn't speak to them either, though I sort of nodded hello in Embry's direction. He pretended he didn't see me. Almost unconsciously, I moved closer to Carlisle, he being the only person present who wasn't angry at me, and he gave me a sympathetic smile before slipping past Embry to give Jacob a shot of morphine. Embry made no move to stop me (rather than looking at me, he was just sort of staring at nothing in particular), so I leaned around the doorframe and looked in at Jacob.

He was fast asleep, his head and feet at awkward angles, since his mattress was too short and too narrow for his entire body to fit on the bed, no matter what position he lay in. His face looked less pained than it had the last time I'd seen him, and suddenly I was intensely glad I'd come. Seeing him like this, I could tell myself that he was really going to be okay, that he'd healed physically in just a few days, and though it would take longer for him to heal emotionally, he _would_ get better in that respect too. He had to. Jacob deserved that and more.

"The fractures look almost healed," Carlisle said very quietly, his voice amazed. "There's hardly any swelling, and no signs of scarring or muscle damage either. It's remarkable."

"Charlie saw him though, so he'll have to wear casts for a while," Quil muttered absently.

Carlisle nodded. "I'll bring some with me tomorrow and he can see if they fit—and a pair of crutches that are tall enough."

I took one last look at Jacob, trying not to wonder when I'd see him again, and then withdrew into the hall again. Carlisle emerged a second later, his black bag in hand, and Sam led the way back to the living room—I was surprised that he'd been behind us the whole time, presumably watching us. Billy came out of his own small bedroom then—I could hear the sounds of a radio playing the baseball game Charlie and Edward were watching back at home—and said hello, looking surprisingly friendly considering Sam, Quil, and Embry's reactions to our visit.

"Charlie says hi," I called as Sam opened the door for us—now that Carlisle had confirmed that Jacob was still healing properly, he seemed eager for us to leave. I sort of understood that it was against the treaty for a Cullen to even be on Quileute land, but Sam's behavior still seemed strange; how could he be so grateful to Carlisle for treating Jacob and at the same time be so hostile to his presence here?

We were almost back to the car when I slipped again—I was too preoccupied to watch the ground, though at least this time I slipped in a different puddle. Like the first time, Carlisle moved unnaturally fast to catch me before I could hit the ground—behind us, I heard a stifled gasp from Sam.

"Sorry," I said, exasperated with myself. There _were_ things I imagined I'd miss when I became a vampire, but incurable clumsiness was by no means one of them.

Carlisle smiled and opened my door for me without comment—I didn't think he'd really miss patching up my frequent minor injuries, though he'd never complained about my pitiful human weaknesses before either. I wondered if, like the rest of the Cullens, he was happy I was joining their family, but had mixed feelings about my becoming immortal._ A few more weeks_, I told myself firmly, trying not to feel nervous. _Then none of us will have to worry about it anymore._

"Is it like that every time you come out here?" I asked as soon as he'd shut his own door.

Carlisle shook his head as he started the car. "No," he said with a frown. "Usually it's just Billy, though Quil and Embry waited in the living room the first couple times I visited. I haven't seen Sam here since the day Jacob was injured."

That confused me—I'd thought that the other wolves were guarding Jacob, but they apparently trusted Carlisle enough to leave him alone with the Blacks…or at least they had until today. Was this really about Carlisle, or was I missing something?

"Did they know I was coming with you today?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"I told Billy last night that I planned on inviting you," Carlisle said, by which I knew he meant that Edward had asked him to invite me. "And apparently, he mentioned that fact to Sam, who saw fit to be here today with two other witnesses."

"Why?" I wondered, about to ask Carlisle why he'd used the word 'witnesses,' but then I decided that that wasn't really the point. "Does Sam think _I'm_ a threat to Jacob? I mean, I know those guys are angry with me, but could they really think I'd hurt him or something?"

"I don't have Edward's insight to support this theory," Carlisle said thoughtfully, taking his eyes off the road to look over at me, his expression serious, "but I think that Sam must have heard about your decision, Bella."

I nodded, remembering the unfriendly looks the wolves had given me. "But why would they think they had to come to Jake's because of that? They didn't even mention it."

"They were watching you, I think, for some sign that you might be having second thoughts about your choice," Carlisle said gently.

I _was_ missing something here. "What do you mean?"

"I'm guessing that the pack wanted to see how you behave around another vampire." He looked at me again and smiled. "Remember that the ordinary human reaction to our presence is uneasiness. Sam and the others have never seen you with one of us without Edward present—maybe they thought that your tolerance of vampires was unique to him."

I shook my head absently—I couldn't imagine anyone being uncomfortable around Carlisle—but I was starting to understand what he meant. I remembered Jacob telling me once that it seemed impossible that I could be in love with Edward, and though the wolves had heard how I felt about him, had even seen me with the Cullens before, it must have been as difficult for them to accept as it had been for Jake. Their instinct, the reason they felt they existed, was to protect humans from vampires, and here I was, a human who refused to be protected—who didn't just love one vampire, but rather wanted to belong to a whole family of them.

"You think they wanted a chance to try and talk me out of it," I said at last.

Carlisle nodded slowly. "And they might have tried, if it hadn't seemed…"

He didn't have to finish—I remembered the way I'd moved closer to Carlisle when I'd been nervous, the way I'd been grateful (as opposed to terrified) both times he'd moved to catch me when I'd slipped. It was more than being used to Carlisle's presence; even now, he was like a second father to me.

"It seemed like…we were already family," I finished for him.

Carlisle patted my hand gently in response.

I could see that we were almost back to Charlie's house, so I asked something that I'd wondered about ever since I'd heard the circumstances of Esme's death, and had thought about even more frequently since Edward had agreed to make me immortal.

"Carlisle, I'm really sorry for asking this, but do you…do you ever regret not changing Esme when you first met her? I mean, I know Edward's afraid that I'm going to wish I'd stayed human after he changes me, but…"

_But humans are fragile_, I thought. Esme's life proved that, and so did mine in a way—my numerous near death experiences made it clear that I needed to be turned before my human frailty could further endanger either my human family or my immortal one. Afterwards, there would be plenty of time to think about the ramifications of my decision.

Carlisle didn't answer for a moment, and I was starting to worry that he'd been offended by my question when he spoke again.

"I do," he said finally, his voice quiet. "But I know that I would have had regrets if I _had_ changed her too." He glanced at me, looking sympathetic. "I don't think there's any way to enter this life without some measure of regret, Bella. Of course, that's probably true of being human too."

I nodded unhappily. "I'm just afraid that…what if he wishes he hadn't changed me, after it's done?"

"He won't," Carlisle said firmly. "Trust me, Bella. He's worried that _you'll_ wish he hadn't changed you—once it's happened, he won't be sorry."

That was somewhat reassuring—at least Carlisle spoke from personal experience. I thanked him for the ride out to La Push, and then he drove home. I'd go to the Cullens' house later, ostensibly to drop Edward off, and then he'd return after Charlie had fallen asleep.

"So, how is he?" Charlie asked after I'd hung up my coat and stepped into the living room.

"Better," I said, sitting down on the couch beside Edward. I ignored Charlie's scowl, and returned Edward's smile when I settled against his side, resting my head against his cool shoulder. I'd made my choice, and though I grimaced at the thought of telling Charlie and Renée what Alice was already busily planning for later this summer, thinking about the future didn't worry me as much as it once had—seeing Jacob and talking to Carlisle had helped. I knew what I wanted from the rest of my life—the rest of my existence really—and I was ready to be a Cullen. That aspect of the future was one thing I could face without regret.

* * *

I'm sure it's been said before, but to err is human, to review divine. :)


	54. Snow

Here's a much shorter chapter than the previous one: the background for this story is that by this time of year, I'm usually pretty sick of winter. This year is no exception. However, I can see how the Cullens might enjoy what to me is an unpleasant, interminable season rife with cold and darkness. (I live in Michigan, so…yeah, that's why I hate winter). If you get a chance, please review, and have a great week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of Twilight, which is both commendable and _delightful_.

_1989_: Snow

Jasper's POV

Another storm was on its way, so Jasper took a seat beside the large sitting room window to watch the snow. They'd moved to Alaska back in June, and though Jasper had watched the progress of winter's gradual advance before, he'd been fascinated to observe the seasons change and linger here—every time he thought that it couldn't possibly snow anymore, it did, and now several feet had accumulated outside the house they were sharing with the Denali clan. After the decades he'd spent in the south, Jasper was amazed by the way that snow could render a familiar landscape so alien; what was a thickly wooded yard in summer now seemed utterly barren.

"I hate this weather," Rosalie complained from her place beside Emmett. They were sitting near the radio, and from the sound of it, nearly every school in the state had been cancelled for the day due to snow and ice accumulation.

"It's not like you get cold anymore, babe," Emmett pointed out.

"But now we can't go into town," Rosalie muttered irritably. "The car won't make it, and people would be suspicious if we ran—even if they didn't see us, they'd wonder how we got there. I wanted to see a movie tonight…"

"I'm sure we can find some way to occupy ourselves here," Emmett growled meaningfully, and instead of trying to ignore them, Jasper filled the room with a sudden, intense impulse to leave the room and find a more private place.

Rosalie realized what was happening and laughed. "Okay, we'll have more fun if we leave anyway," she said, taking Emmett's hand and pulling him off the couch. Alice and Tanya appeared at the bottom of the stairs seconds after Jasper heard Emmett and Rosalie racing up them.

"This house might be too small for all of us," Tanya said darkly, and Jasper smiled; Tanya's room shared a wall with Emmett and Rosalie's. "Jasper, have you seen Edward?"

"Not lately," Jasper said, sliding over so Alice could curl up in the chair beside him. "Have you checked outside?"

Tanya made a face. "Maybe he's in Eleazar's study looking for a book…" she muttered, drifting out of the room.

"I think I'm the only one who still enjoys the snow at this point," Jasper said, and Alice smiled.

"It still holds an element of novelty for you," she said gently, her expression a bit distant—Jasper could tell she was scanning the future. "Tanya and the others have been living here for years, and I guess that this has been the hardest winter yet."

"The idea of a permanent home is still a bit foreign to me," Jasper admitted. "Do they really intend to stay here indefinitely, even though the weather's so extreme?"

"That's why they want to stay," Alice said, tapping the window idly as snow began to stick to the glass. "What makes this place inconvenient and a bit monotonous for us in the winter renders it almost completely inhospitable for humans."

"The climate's certainly an advantage," Jasper agreed. "And I'm slowly developing a taste for moose."

Alice laughed. "So am I. Still, it'll be nice when spring comes. Carlisle and Esme are going to start talking about us moving further south again then."

Jasper raised his eyebrows. 'I thought the privacy this place afforded made up for the bad weather."

Alice shook her head. "It's not that. There are just too many of us here. Carmen and Eleazar think so too—between the twelve of us, humans might start to notice the effects of our hunting activities if we stay another year." Suddenly, she smiled conspiratorially. "Here comes Edward."

Edward slipped into the room, moving carefully, almost furtively.

"Tanya's in the library, looking for you," Alice said cheerfully, and Edward sighed.

"Please tell me that you see a thaw coming soon," he said, his voice low and weary. "Cabin fever seems to have made her even more determined in her advances than usual."

"She'll be back in here asking about you again in a few minutes," Alice said, scanning the immediate future again. "Maybe you should go work on your car for a while."

Edward rolled his eyes and left the room as quietly as he'd entered it. "I've overhauled every inch of my poor car twice this winter already…" he muttered.

"Why not send him outside?" Jasper wondered, glancing out at the sheet of snow still falling. "He'd be safer there than he is in the house or garage."

"Carlisle and Esme are out there already," Alice said, grinning with amusement. "I told Esme that I saw Rose and Emmett going upstairs, so she and Carlisle went outside a little while ago. I think they wanted some privacy."

Jasper chuckled—weeks ago, the Cullens and Denalis had had a huge snowball fight. Both sides had erected crude fortifications, and Carlisle and Esme had later transformed the wall they'd built on the Cullens' side into an igloo. Ever since, when it snowed too hard for Carlisle to reach the hospital where he volunteered without attracting notice, he and Esme had spent the day by themselves, alone in their makeshift fort.

"We could build our own igloo," Jasper said suddenly, and Alice laughed again as she pulled him to his feet.

"I came in here specifically to wait for you to suggest that," she said playfully.

Jasper grinned. He loved snow.


	55. Alliance

Happy Tuesday! (Sorry I'm updating late--not much happened this weekend, but somehow it turned out to be busy anyway :)). I've got two short chapters for this week—if you've got a sec to review, then that would be great :) Have a wonderful week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the sole author of "Twilight."

_2007_: Alliance

Jacob's POV

"Okay, almost done," Esme announced, and I sighed, relieved that the ordeal would soon be over. She finished tying my tie, and then she stepped back to consider how I looked.

"Decent?" I asked with a grin.

Esme smiled. "You look very handsome, Jacob."

I made a face, but at least she looked happy. I wasn't exactly thrilled to be wearing a tuxedo, but I told myself for the umpteenth time that it was for a good cause. Sure. Later, I'd be glad I'd gone through with this, but for now, I was a little concerned that I might actually die of embarrassment.

I was wearing a tux because Emily's younger sister Sarah needed a date to her junior prom up on the Makah reservation—Seth was closer to her age, but he'd been too embarrassed at the prospect of asking her, so I'd offered to go with her, just as friends—and I'd made the mistake of mentioning that fact the last time I was over at the Cullens. Esme had immediately offered to help me get ready, and believe me, I was grateful; even if my life depended on it, I can't tie a tie, and at least if she helped me pick out a suit and all the other assorted prom stuff, I could tell Alice that I didn't need her help with clothes—I'd heard enough stories from Bella to know that if I wanted to remain at least relatively sane, I should avoid Alice like the plague when it came to matters of fashion. Now that it was almost time to go pick up Sarah though, I was starting to have second thoughts about what I was wearing.

"Are you sure I'm not kind of…overdressed?" I wondered. "I've never been to one of these things, other than the time I crashed Bella's, and just because your kids can pull of tuxes at a school dance doesn't mean—"

"Jake, don't worry," Esme said soothingly. "You look very dashing, and you're going to have a great time."

I rolled my eyes. "Not bloody likely," I muttered darkly.

Esme raised her eyebrows. "Let me rephrase that," she said, her voice amused but firm. "You will, for Sarah's sake, at least pretend to have a great time."

"Sure, sure," I said quickly. "I promise to pretend to have fun."

Esme laughed. "You might really enjoy yourself, you know. Maybe you won't have to pretend."

"Stranger things have happened, I guess," I said, smiling at the thought of me having fun at a prom being stranger than me being a werewolf who'd had a vampire help him prepare for said prom.

Esme, having deemed me presentable, led me out to the living room. Billy and Carlisle were sitting in front of the TV, but both looked up and smiled when they heard us come in. I got the feeling that they were both trying not to laugh at the look on my face, which was probably somewhere between moderately uncomfortable and extremely uncomfortable.

"Ta da!" Esme sang, spinning me around so they could get the full effect of the tux.

"Very nice," Carlisle said approvingly, sliding his arm around Esme when she leaned against the arm of his chair to look at me again.

"Wow," Billy said, looking both amused and impressed. "You look very…suave."

"Suave?" I snorted. "I'm on my way to a prom, I'm not going on a secret mission."

"Black," Billy said, "Jacob Black," and then he started to hum the James Bond theme music. I just shook my head—at least Quil and Embry (or, God forbid, Leah) weren't here to see me. Still, when I glanced at Esme and saw her beaming at me, I was glad that she'd helped me. With five kids already (seven counting Bella and Nessie), I was always a little surprised when she took the time to do stuff like this. Neither of us ever really mentioned it, but what with my memories of my own mother being pretty hazy, Esme was the closest thing to a mom I had. To the rest of the pack, the Cullens were allies (and in Seth's case, friends), but to me, they were family. So I was really hoping that I didn't actually expire from humiliation tonight, if only because Esme would feel bad if I did.

"Sarah's corsage is in the fridge," she told me, still smiling happily. "Did you—"

"I got the Rabbit washed this morning," I told her. "And I checked the tires, engine, and everything else right before you came over. If my car breaks down tonight, it'll be an act of God."

"Alice offered to loan you one of her cars," Carlisle said casually, and then he, Billy and Esme all laughed when they saw that I was practically drooling at the very idea. Reluctantly, and after several seconds of imagining how the yellow Porsche must handle, I shook my head.

"No," I said, getting the word out only with effort. "The Rabbit's less—" (_cool, fast, beautiful_, I thought) "—conspicuous," I said.

"True," Carlisle agreed, still chuckling.

"I just realized who you remind me of, dressed like that," Billy said suddenly, wheeling himself around the couch and into the kitchen, where he pulled a photo off the fridge. Even from a distance, I recognized the picture: it was of Sam and Emily at their wedding, and I groaned quietly. In the tux, I really did look like I was on my way to a wedding.

"Wow," Carlisle said, grinning at Esme when Billy showed them the picture. Esme laughed.

"My wedding dress looked a lot like Emily's," she explained, smiling at the image of Emily and Sam.

"When did you two get married again?" Billy asked.

"Nineteen twenty-two," Carlisle said, still smiling at Esme, who laughed again.

"It's amazing how styles are cyclical like that," she said fondly. "Or was Emily wearing an heirloom?"

"I think Sam said it was her grandmother's dress," I told her, glad to be talking about someone else's clothes. It had been a nice wedding, as far as weddings went, I guess, and it had been fun to see them both so happy. Thinking about it made me suddenly wonder if I'd ever get married, and though the thought of Edward's face if he ever heard me thinking that made me smile, I decided that it would only be funny if he or Bella didn't actually murder me for entertaining such a question.

Just then I looked at my watch and groaned again. "Okay, you guys hang out here and enjoy contemplating my suffering. I'll be back in a few hours." _Assuming I survive this_, I thought, pulling uncomfortably at my tie. Esme stopped me before I could get to the door though, and I noticed with dismay that there was a camera in her hand.

"Let me just take one of you with your Dad," she said coaxingly, and I reluctantly went and stood by Billy, who grinned at my pained attempt to smile. Then Carlisle took a picture of me and Esme, and as the camera flashed, I thought again that I was glad that we could do stuff like this together, silly as it was. The Cullens were already a second family to me, and though the friendship between our respective species was probably the weirdest alliance I could think of--a bunch of werewolves allied with a big, happy, _vampire_ nuclear family--it wasn't something I'd trade for anything...even now, dressed, I thought, in a truly ridiculous outfit. _Oh well_, I thought, resigned to the inevitable now as I waved to the three of them and stepped out the door, corsage in hand. _Anything to make my vampire mom happy._


	56. Questions

Hi again! The following chapter deals a bit with Alice's missing memories; on the one hand, I can see how she'd be eager to recover them (even knowing that might be impossible), while also being aware of how the other Cullens all have human memories they'd like to forget. Thanks for all your reviews for the last two chapters, and I'll see you next Monday! Also, as always, if you get a chance to review, that would be excellent

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I don't know about you, but I'm really excited for the "Twilight" graphic novel! (It comes out four days before "New Moon" comes out on DVD! Yeah, so, that's going to be a pretty delightful week ).

_1953_: Questions

Alice's POV

School had proven to be a bit unpleasant at first (given the sharp, burning pain that exploded in her throat every time she entered the building), but gradually, Alice had come to enjoy it. Edward and her other new siblings were a bit amused at first, but then they realized that her interest stemmed from the fact that she couldn't remember having been to school as a human. Edward especially had grown thoughtful when he'd considered this. For her part, Alice contemplated her forgotten human life frequently, and when they'd first met, she'd wondered (briefly and without much hope) if Edward might be able to help her.

Within days of joining the Cullen family, Alice had asked Edward to read her mind; she couldn't remember being human, but if Edward listened to her trying to think about that time, wasn't it possible that he might hear some flicker of a memory, some clue as to who she'd been?

"Nothing," he'd said, brows furrowed with concentration. "I hear that you're trying, but I can't find any memories from before you first saw a vision of Jasper's face. When you try to recall things that happened before that moment, it's just…a blank."

Alice had nodded, disappointed but unsurprised. "I saw that it wouldn't work, but thanks anyway for trying."

Since then, they'd rarely spoken of it, but Alice knew that Edward could hear her wondering what had happened to her memories. She often considered the matter while they were at school, particularly while they were in class: _Could I have learned this before? _she'd think. _Could I have read this book, spoken this language, written an essay about this same subject and not remember it?_

"You might never know, Alice," Edward murmured at lunch one day. Alice glanced up from the tray of food she'd been picking at and smiled sadly.

_You're probably right. But I have so many questions! Why hasn't Carlisle ever heard of another immortal like me? I though all of us retained at least some of our human memories after the change…_

"That's only as far as we know," Edward murmured, barely moving his lips as he spoke. Then he glanced around, making sure that there were no humans close enough to hear them—Rosalie and Emmett had graduated the previous spring, and Jasper's thirst was such that it wasn't safe for him to come to school yet. Apparently, no minds were on the two Cullens at the moment, so Edward turned back to her and spoke again.

"Carlisle's theory is that it probably has something to do with your physical condition at the time you were turned," he said quietly.

Alice nodded. _He thinks I might have been so badly injured that though my heart was still beating, most of my brain functions had stopped. But if that were the case, then how could I remember anything when I woke up? Why did I know my name, or how to speak? If I knew when I first regained consciousness that I _had_ been human but I wasn't anymore, why can't I remember any details?_

Edward was silent for a moment, and Alice sighed just as he opened his mouth.

"I know," she said gently. "You don't have to say it."

He'd been about to tell her that Esme had countless human memories that she wished she could forget; that after nearly three centuries of this life, Carlisle didn't relish the vague impressions that were left of his human life either; for the others too, those memories were a reminder of what they'd lost, of what they could never be again.

_Rosalie hates to hear me say I wish I could remember being human_, Alice agreed.

"She'd gladly trade places with you," Edward said grimly. "We all would, some days, But I can understand that if I couldn't remember, I'd want to know what I'd forgotten."

_Curiosity killed the cat_, Alice thought with a smile,_ but satisfaction brought him back._

Edward smiled too and shook his head. "Between the two of us, we can find out almost anything—why should your memories be the exception?

Alice sighed quietly. She wasn't sure that she would ever remember being human, and in a way, that was something of a comfort. What if her memories weren't worth recovering? The recollections that might precede her death aside, did she really want to remember how her life had ended if her demise resembled Rosalie's or Esme's? She didn't know, and it seemed distinctly possible that ignorance might be preferable to the truth. Then she smiled at the vision of Edward's next question.

"So sis, what are we getting our parents for their anniversary?"

"Symphony tickets," Alice said with a grin. "They're planning on going to New York." Though it often seemed that she knew very little about herself, Alice was glad that her insights could help in moments like this. As opposed to the matter of her past, usually, the question of how to help make her family happy was something she _could_ answer.


	57. Fiction

Happy Monday, everyone! The story behind this chapter is that I finished reading "Tess of the D'Urbervilles" a couple of weeks ago, and though it was a wonderful novel, it was also _extremely_ depressing—at least, I thought so, and while I was reading, I had the idea of how much more disheartening Esme would find the story. (Also, I was an English major as an undergrad, so I really love the idea of Carlisle and Esme talking about books :)). Spoiler alert: I refer to "Tess of the D'Urbervilles" and "Jane Eyre" a few times here—there aren't really any explicit spoilers, but Carlisle and Esme both comment on the different tones of the novels—just warning you just in case. :) Thanks for reading and as always, a review would be just excellent. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 148 DAYS TILL ECLIPSE!!!

_1921_: Fiction

Esme's POV

The late morning sun was slanting through the living room windows, and Edward had already left for school, but Carlisle hadn't returned from the hospital yet. As it happened, Esme was relieved to have had little time to herself; she'd spent most of the night trying not to cry, though Edward's insight into her thoughts made her attempts to maintain self-possession useless. He'd spent several hours at the piano playing cheerful songs in a touching, though unsuccessful effort to raise her spirits, but in the end, he'd realized that music wasn't helping—if anything, the contrast between the pleasant melodies and the unhappy subject matter of the book she'd been reading had made her more emotional.

"Esme, if it depresses you so much, quit reading it," Edward had said at last, nodding distastefully at "Tess of the D'Urbervilles." "Lots of people don't like Hardy. I don't, as a matter of fact."

"I only have a hundred pages left," Esme had told him firmly. "I'm not stopping now. Go on, get ready for school. By the time you get home, I'll have moved on to more cheerful reading matter."

And now, having finished Tess, Esme was determined that Edward _would_ find her in a better humor when he came home that afternoon. When she'd first selected the book, he'd tried to tell her not to read "Tess of the D'Urbervilles," and now she knew why: it told the unhappy story of a woman married (only in the physical sense) to a man she detested, only to later meet a man she truly loved who ultimately rejected her because of her first "husband." Of course, Esme reflected bitterly, it wasn't as though she shared all of Tess's hardships. Carlisle knew about Charles, and so he would never ask her to marry him, and she could never in turn break his heart. For her own part, the very idea of being married to Carlisle under any circumstances was wonderful, but though "Tess" was, as Edward had been quick to point out, just a story, the novel had reminded her how impossible it would be for her to ever make Carlisle as happy as he deserved.

Esme shook her head at this futile train of thought and tried to concentrate on choosing something new to read. She had just stepped onto a chair to examine the top shelves of their home library, thinking that there might be a book hidden somewhere that she hadn't read yet—aside from Carlisle's medical journals—when she remembered a fantasy she'd often indulged in when she'd been human and alone in an empty house on mornings like this. In it, she imagined that there would be a knock on the door. She would open it, afraid to find Charles home early, only to encounter Carlisle standing on the doorstep instead. He would be there to tell her that Charles had been brought to the hospital—there had been an accident (a fire, a car wreck, the collapse of a building; how it happened was immaterial), and Charles had died. Then Carlisle would recognize her, remember her. He would see the bruises on her face and arms, and after that, he wouldn't be surprised that she didn't grieve for Charles.

He would help her prepare for the funeral. He would visit her afterward, to deliver food prepared by well-meaning neighbors. He would help her arrange to sell the house that held so many unpleasant memories. Then one evening, while he helped her to pack up her things, he might help her to her feet, or offer to carry something downstairs, and then suddenly he would be kissing her, and the daydream usually ended after that, because anything beyond that moment would be so indescribably perfect that her imagination failed at the very thought.

Just then the front door opened, and Esme started, feeling both guilty and mortified when she considered what she'd just been thinking about.

"Hi," Esme called, hopping down from the chair, a worn copy of "Jane Eyre" in hand.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, his voice low but perfectly audible even though he was still in the hallway, disposing of his bag and coat. "Dr. Hardin was feeling ill, so he went home. I stayed until Dr. Bennett could come in to take his place."

Carlisle joined her in the library a moment later and smiled at the book in her hand.

"After Tess, I needed something more cheerful," Esme said by way of explanation.

He laughed, and Esme tried not to sigh—she loved to hear him laugh. "I'm not sure I've heard it characterized as cheerful before," he said, smiling as he sat in the chair opposite hers. "When it was first published at least, the imagery was considered rather grim."

"But it ends happily," Esme argued. "That's all I'm interested in. I might have liked Tess even, if the ending hadn't been so tragic…though I suppose it really couldn't have ended happily."

"You don't think so?" Carlisle said quietly, his expression interested.

"No," Esme said, before realizing with embarrassment that she'd spoken a bit too quickly. With an effort, she managed to make her voice lighter. "That is, it would have been unrealistic if it had. Hardy was trying to show the crippling effects that double standards for propriety could have on women, especially if they were impoverished."

"As I recall, he certainly makes his point," Carlisle said, eying the book, which was still sitting on an end table, somewhat skeptically. "Hardy seems to recognize human suffering without believing that society can actually improve. I can't say as I share that attitude."

"If he could live to be your age, I can't imagine how that might alter his view of the world," Esme said with a smile, wondering as she always did at his optimism, which had survived so many centuries of solitude and firsthand experience with human misery.

Carlisle chuckled. "I wonder…of course, if he's rather cynical now—justifiably so, I suppose—another century or two of life isn't likely to make him more sanguine."

Esme glanced at "Jane Eyre" again and tried not to sigh unhappily. "You've had so much time to read…have you ever gotten tired of it?"

"Frequently," Carlisle said immediately. "Medical texts have always been able to hold my interest, but novels…well, there were several times in the previous century when I could barely stand to open one."

"Really?" Esme said, genuinely surprised. "But there were so many good authors."

"There were," Carlisle agreed. "But…taking Dickens as an example, I found it difficult to relate to scenes involving families. I could relate on an intellectual level, but my own…let's say emotional inexperience with the subject matter bothered me. Coming home to an empty house after work and reading about a family had a way of bringing the things that troubled me about my own life into sharper relief."

Suddenly, Esme felt like crying again. "You were lonely," she said simply.

Carlisle seemed to recognize the sadness she was struggling to contain. He leaned over and touched her hand.

"I'm not now," he said quietly. Then he withdrew his hand, and Esme barely stopped herself from trying to snatch it back. Looking at "Jane Eyre" again, Esme suddenly decided that it wasn't so cheerful after all. Like Carlisle with Dickens, Esme realized that this was a story she couldn't relate to her own life—it was the history of a woman who had faced a myriad of hardships before finding a happy ending._ I would love to marry the man who I love best,_ she thought sadly. _But…he isn't the man who loves me best._ No, Esme had long ago resigned herself to the fact that in her own life, the possibility of a truly happy ending—one that united her with Carlisle—was just a fiction.


	58. Dinner

Hi again! This chapter takes place during "Midnight Sun," after Edward asks Carlisle to take care of the guy who tried to attack Bella in Port Angeles. (Basically, if you haven't read it or if you've forgotten—spoiler alert—Carlisle finds the guy, drugs him, and dumps his body in Oregon…I really like "Midnight Sun" :)).

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and a friend of mine reminded me today of the comic book about her…gonna have to check that out…

_2005_: Dinner

Carlisle's POV

When Carlisle pulled into the garage, sunrise was still an hour or two away. He smiled at the thought of Edward being at Bella's—he could remember meeting Esme as a human just a year younger than Bella, and only close to three centuries of self-restraint had kept him from carrying her off and marrying her that very day, so he felt little inclination to lecture Edward about stalking the girl. He knew, without having to ask, that Edward felt far worse about the situation than either of his parents did. In fact, Carlisle could already hear Esme on the stairs, and even from a distance, her delight was almost palpable.

She nearly collided with him in the hall when he opened the front door. Carlisle caught her, laughing at her enthusiasm, and she swatted at him playfully before kissing him.

"I was coming to meet you—" she began.

"I gathered," he said, grinning. "I was coming to tell you all about it." Just then, he heard a muffled crash from upstairs—from the sound of it, Rosalie was going through her clothes, a common pastime she engaged in when particularly irritated.

Esme stepped onto the porch. "I need to hunt anyway, so let's talk outside."

Carlisle nodded, shutting the door behind them. "How much did Alice tell you?"

"Only that Edward followed Bella to Port Angeles and that he saved her from some kind of trouble," Esme said, shaking her head and frowning at the thought of anything hurting the girl. Carlisle took her hand, and they ran without speaking all the way to Olympic National Park—it was unnerving to think that now, when Edward had finally found love, the object of his affection should be so fragile, so terribly vulnerable to innumerable dangers.

"He bought her dinner, and they talked," Carlisle said abruptly, knowing she'd be happy to hear this. Beside him, Esme sighed happily.

"And she's guessed what he is but she isn't afraid," Esme said quietly, sliding her arm around his waist and slowing down to a human pace. Carlisle kissed the top of her head and hugged her to his side.

"That part of it certainly came as a surprise to me," he murmured.

Esme shrugged. "I can't say for certain, but if you'd told me what you were when we first met, I don't know that I'd have been too terribly alarmed. At the time, I thought you were an angel; accepting that you were another sort of supernatural creature wouldn't have been too much of a leap."

"I think in that case, you and Bella would both be exceptions to the rule of average human reactions to the existence of vampires," Carlisle said with a chuckle. He was happy, and so was Esme, but he sensed that they both knew how much of their happiness depended on their ignoring the grim realities of this situation. Much as they both wanted Edward to enjoy the love he'd discovered at last, there was no chance of happiness for their son that wasn't tinged by fear for the future, to say nothing of Bella's relative helplessness in the here and now. Carlisle glanced down at Esme, remembering her as she'd looked when she'd been human, and he shuddered and held her closer at the thought of how fragile she'd been, and ultimately, how very breakable.

"I don't know how we can help him," Carlisle said at last. "I don't even know what to say to him, beyond hoping that things work out for the best, but that seems such…an inadequate thing to say in this case. And he knew, of course, without Alice having to tell him, how things are likely to turn out."

"You're right," Esme said quietly, snuggling closer against his side. "I almost don't dare show him how happy I am that he's found Bella, knowing how little chance there is of a happy resolution to this. But I have to believe that there's at least a chance. Edward deserves that, and so does Bella."

Carlisle nodded. "I suppose there's nothing to do but wait and hope for the best, though again, that seems such a paltry sentiment to express under the circumstances."

"We can be happy for him, right now," Esme said firmly. "And he can be happy with Bella." Suddenly, she laughed, and pulled far enough away to smile up at him.

"What?" he said, returning her grin as her arms wound around his shoulders.

"Our son took a girl out to dinner tonight," she murmured contentedly. "And now I'm on a dinner date with my husband. Today, by my estimation, has been an almost perfect day."

"Technically, as it's well after midnight, he took Bella to dinner yesterday," Carlisle said playfully. "And since it's almost dawn, isn't this a breakfast date?"

Esme snorted, her expression amused. "I smell elk—who ever heard of having elk for breakfast?"

* * *

After they'd finished hunting, Carlisle took her hand again and glanced up at the gray predawn sky, relieved by the sight of a thick layer of clouds.

"Alice said we'll have rain on and off all day today," Esme said, following his gaze. "What time do you have to be at work?"

"Eight in the morning, tomorrow," Carlisle said, kissing her fingertips until she giggled. "Dr. Snow happened to look at my schedule yesterday, and apparently I've been working too much. He asked me to take a day off before I collapse from exhaustion."

Esme laughed again. "In that case, my overworked husband, we should get home so you can rest, if only to maintain the illusion of your being human."

"Only if you take a much needed day off too, Mrs. Cullen," Carlisle said seriously. "You've been running yourself ragged lately, between having five children that never sleep and a husband who works too much."

Esme smiled, but her eyes suddenly looked darker, and given the number of elk they'd just dispatched, Carlisle guessed that the change had nothing to do with thirst. "Let's hurry home then," she said firmly, sprinting off into the trees.

"You said earlier that today was an _almost_ perfect day," Carlisle said, catching up to her a few seconds later. "Why only almost?"

Esme turned and smiled at him again, and it was only then that he noticed a small speck of blood clinging to the corner of her mouth. "I only meant that it isn't perfect _yet_," she said quietly, and continued running. Carlisle found himself staring at her intently until they were nearly home, the image of that bit of blood driving him almost to distraction.

"What is it?" she said at last, her voice low but playful—that was when he realized that she'd left the blood there on purpose. They'd both slowed down, and now Carlisle stopped completely and caught her gently by the arm to pull her against him.

"You're teasing me," he said, grinning down at her. "We both know that if I kiss away that blood, it's going to lead to our destroying each other's clothes in a matter of seconds."

Esme licked her lips, but to Carlisle's amusement, she avoided the drop of blood. "That was sort of the idea," she said quietly, smiling as she pulled him into a thicker copse of trees. Carlisle smiled too as he leaned down and finally licked the blood off her lip—he loved having dinner with Esme.

* * *

Thanks so much to everyone for your reviews, and I'll see you next week! :)


	59. Grandparents

Happy Wednesday! (Sorry for the late update—did you know that midterms are coming up already? Because yikes, I didn't, so I've been studying a lot, and hopefully, it will pay off in the next couple weeks…). Just one chapter today—a fluffy Nessie story :) —but then I'll be updating again on Sunday. In honor of Valentine's Day (and because someone asked me about it a while ago), Sunday's chapters will both be about Isle Esme. :) Hope you enjoy and see you Sunday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 139 DAYS TILL "ECLIPSE"!!!!!

_2008_: Grandparents

Nessie's POV

"Wow," Nessie whispered, looking up at the huge tank at the center of the aquarium. She was holding one of grandpa's hands and one of grandma's, and a few feet away, a bunch of human kids who looked about her age were staring at her. Kids often did—adults tried not to look like they were staring, but they did anyway. Nessie didn't mind—she knew that humans couldn't help but be attracted by immortals' looks—and because she was half human, people found her pretty without being instinctually afraid. It bothered Jacob sometimes—Nessie smiled at the thought of how overprotective he could be, even more so than Mama and Daddy—but Nessie thought it was nice of people, kids especially, to be friendly to her—to treat her like she was human.

She didn't want to be human—that wasn't it. But it was a bit lonely at times, being the only half-immortal child she knew. And she couldn't have human kids for friends—she knew that getting close to anyone human would draw unnecessary attention to the Cullen family as a whole. So Nessie was grateful for moments like this one, when she could be with her family but be near human kids too, just to hear them talk, to see what they were like.

"I wonder how shark tastes," grandpa whispered.

Nessie giggled, and she felt some of the kids looking at her again. She turned and smiled at them this time, and the kids smiled back, some of them blushing or waving too.

"Haven't you ever tried shark?" she asked, looking between her grandparents. "What about on grandma's island?"

"We'll have to look for some the next time we're there," grandma said, smiling at grandpa over Nessie's head.

Dartmouth's new semester had begun, and since Mama and Daddy were in class, Nessie had ridden down to Boston with grandma and grandpa to see the aquarium. Nessie understood that they liked to take turns; that is, if she did something with Aunt Rose and Uncle Emmett one day, then the next day, she might take a trip with Aunt Alice and Uncle Jasper, and then with grandma and grandpa. Sometimes Jacob would come along, and other times he would stay home or go for a run in the woods; but no matter who she was with, Nessie always had fun. It made her happy to think that her family was so glad just to spend time with her—though she knew that they also wanted to enjoy her childhood as much as they could while it lasted.

Nessie enjoyed being a kid, but she knew that she wasn't _really_ a kid, in the sense that adults usually thought of her, given that she looked about five or six years old. Mama and Daddy could tell how old she really was, and her aunts and uncles and grandma and grandpa too seemed to understand that her mind was almost an adult's already—but Nessie knew they were a little sad too that she was growing up so fast. When she saw human kids, sometimes, so was she, but Nessie knew that she couldn't change what she was, and for the most part, she was happy. It would have been hard not to be, she thought. As the youngest member of the Cullen family, it was like she had four sets of parents instead of just one.

She always had fun on days like this, but Nessie thought that it was especially nice to see grandma and grandpa together when it was just the three of them. Grandma and grandpa had been together longer than any of the other couples in the family, and it often seemed that they barely needed to speak at all to talk to each other. Now, after they'd stared at the huge tank filled with fish for a few minutes, grandma and grandpa picked her up by her arms, and Nessie laughed, delighted, as she felt her feet leave the ground. In a few months, she guessed she'd be too tall to do this.

"Hungry?" grandma asked.

"A little," Nessie admitted. "But I guess the restaurant here probably doesn't serve raw meat."

"How about ice cream then?" grandpa offered. "Then we can go hunting when we get home."

Nessie smiled. Sweet things were among the few human foods she would eat voluntarily. "You had me at ice cream," she said happily, and grandma and grandpa both laughed.

It was cloudy, so they went outside, and Nessie ate her ice cream while they stood on the pier and looked out at the ocean.

"Are there sharks down there?" Nessie wondered, stepping a little closer to the edge and thinking how easy it would be to jump over the railing when she felt grandma's hand on her shoulder.

"Probably, but let's not look today," grandma said firmly. "Edward and Bella will wonder what happened if we bring you home in wet clothes."

"And what would Jacob say?" grandpa wondered.

Nessie laughed and swallowed the rest of her ice cream cone. "He always says, 'Do me a favor and wait until you're a few inches taller, okay?' Like when I try to go after grizzlies alone or race him to the top of a tree."

"I think we'll all feel better when you're a few inches taller," grandpa said quietly. "Of course, you're very nearly indestructible now, but given your size…well, you _look_ very breakable."

"So you don't want to watch me wrestle a shark?" Nessie asked.

"No," grandma and grandpa said together, and she laughed. It was always like this with her grandparents: fun, but relaxing too. Aunt Rose and Uncle Emmett liked to do exciting things, like going to amusement parks or action movies, and going out with Aunt Alice and Uncle Jasper always involved at least a little bit of shopping, or maybe a trip to a museum where Uncle Jasper would sometimes remember people in the exhibits, but grandma and grandpa always let her pick where they would go. Nessie had picked the aquarium today because she liked to see different kinds of animals, but the aquarium had the advantage of being a safer place than the zoo. It always worried her a little that the big cats and bears and other predators looked so appetizing, and though Uncle Emmett insisted that he was joking about coming back some night and picking off the older animals, as he'd suggested they do the last time they'd all gone to the zoo, Nessie wasn't entirely sure that it had really been a joke. Or that she wasn't more than a little bit tempted herself by the sight of all that prey…

"You know," Nessie said, half-seriously. "The next time we take a trip like this, you guys should pick where we go. You don't want me to get spoiled."

"Honey, we're your grandparents," grandma said gently. "It's our job to spoil you."

"Like some more ice cream before we go?" grandpa asked.

Nessie sighed and took their hands again. She loved her grandparents.

* * *

Reviews are just delightful! :)


	60. Island: 1972

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! (Honestly, it's not my favorite holiday, but the candy's good, so I guess I can't really complain :)). Here's the first of two chapters today about Isle Esme—hope you enjoy it, and if you get the chance, reviews are even sweeter than candy. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and "New Moon" on DVD is just a little more than a month away! (Can you believe all the different versions there are? Jeez, I'm lucky my birthday's in March...:)).

Island: _1972_

Carlisle's POV

The flight down to Rio was uneventful, though Carlisle enjoyed watching Esme's excitement and curiosity grow as they traveled further and further south. He'd told her that for their fiftieth anniversary, he'd thought she might enjoy getting some sun on a small island where their privacy would be ensured; as it happened, Carlisle had yet to tell her that this was because he'd _bought_ the island, but he was working up to that. For the time being, he was just happy to see that Esme was enjoying herself so much.

"Alice was right," she said, smiling as they climbed into the boat Carlisle had rented. "It's nice and cloudy today."

"Happily, she also said that we should be able to see the sunset when we get there," Carlisle said, pointing the boat out to sea. "And then the next two weeks are going to be sunny."

"And it's really safe for us to be outside there?" Esme said wonderingly. "How on earth did you find this place, Carlisle?"

"Alice," he said with a grin, and she laughed.

"I suppose I should have guessed," she murmured, settling her head against his shoulder and leaning against him as he steered the boat, one arm around her waist. "She helped me find your gift too."

Carlisle smiled at the thought of her anniversary gift to him: before they'd left, she'd let him unwrap the beautiful painting that Alice had seen her discovering in an antique shop in upstate New York. The focus of the piece was, of all things, the old house that they'd owned in Rochester, and the canvas showed the house buried in the same snowy landscape that had surrounded it the day that Edward had finally returned to them, after his years of wandering. After that, the house had truly become a home, and a few months later, Rosalie had joined their family.

"I know exactly where I'm going to hang your gift," Carlisle said quietly, kissing her on the cheek. "Thank you again, by the way."

"It's a bit of a selfish gift, in the sense that I like it as well as you do," Esme confessed, glancing back toward the mainland, which had almost disappeared. "Incidentally, thank you for your gift. I can't imagine anything more perfect than this."

"It's been a long time since we've taken a trip," Carlisle said, feeling a bit guilty at the thought. They'd kept him busy at the small hospital where he was working now, and in the past three years, he'd never taken more than a day or two off at a time.

"You were long overdue for a vacation," Esme agreed, "but even more than getting to travel, I'm just happy to have you all to myself for a change."

Carlisle chuckled darkly as he felt her trail a lingering kiss from his jaw down to his neck. "You're lucky there's nothing out here for me to crash into," he said, hugging her closer. "If there were, we would have wrecked long ago."

"I'm terribly sorry for distracting you, captain," Esme said, trying and failing to sound serious. "Shall we table the discussion of how much I love you until we're back on dry land?"

"No, because I don't think I can wait that long to tell you the same," Carlisle murmured, and then they kissed for a while, pausing now and then only to check the compass and make sure that they were still on course.

* * *

They arrived at sunset, just as Alice had predicted, and Carlisle smiled as the rosy lights of the day's end caught and reflected off the facets of Esme's skin.

"You look like you're made of gold," she murmured, looking equally impressed by the effect of the light. He smiled as she brushed a strand of hair away from his face.

"This is our golden anniversary," he reminded her, and she laughed. They sat together at the end of the dock, watching the sun sink, and it was only when it was fully dark that they picked up their bags and Carlisle led the way toward the center of the island. The house there was small and simple, but the foundation was sound, and it was just the sort of thing that Esme loved to improve upon.

"It's beautiful!" she said eagerly, staring at the little lagoon nearby, and the trees that drooped down, almost touching the roof of the house. Carlisle almost said, 'it's yours,' but then Esme put a hand on his arm and whispered, "Do you hear that?"

Carlisle listened for a moment, and then he smiled when he realized what she meant. There was nothing save the sound of the ocean, a light wind through the forest around them, and the sleepy sounds of birds that their arrival had disturbed. The usual noises of cars in the distance, planes in the sky, or even the quiet sounds of electricity humming through power lines—all human sounds—were absent from the island.

"It's so quiet," Esme whispered, looking up at the brilliant stars. "And the sky's so clear…no lights, no smog blocking things…it's wonderful here."

'And it's yours,' Carlisle almost said again, but then Esme gave him a look that made speech momentarily impossible.

"And it's just the two of us," she breathed, winding her arms around his neck, and then Carlisle was gone, completely absorbed in kissing her frantically, and though they eventually made it into the house, and the small bedroom facing the beach, the sun was rising before Carlisle remembered that he should tell Esme the true extent of her anniversary gift at some point. _Later_, he told himself, but then she suggested they go swimming, and 'later' became 'much later.'

* * *

The next few days passed in a deliriously pleasant blur: they swam, they both spent more time in the sun than they had in decades, centuries in Carlisle's case, and the clothes they'd brought with them were ignored.

"I packed a new bathing suit," Esme had said thoughtfully the first morning following their arrival. "But now I'm thinking that I might as well save it for a public beach."

"You won't hear me complaining," Carlisle had promised with a grin, pulling her in for a kiss before they raced down to the water. And ever since, they'd both been comparing the island to the Garden of Eden, though as Esme had said, "without any troublesome snakes or apples."

As it happened, they'd been on the island a full week before, while lying in the warm sand and enjoying the sun, Esme finally asked the question he'd been anticipating with both amusement and a bit of apprehension ever since they'd arrived.

"By the way," she murmured, "what's the name of this island? I've been meaning to ask, but you keep distracting me."

Carlisle contemplated distracting her again for a moment, but then he decided that he couldn't very well keep it a secret any longer.

"This island," he said, watching her carefully, "is called Isle Esme."

For a few seconds, Esme was perfectly still and silent.

"Isle…Esme?" she repeated at last.

"Yes," Carlisle said gently, trying very hard not to smile at her stunned expression. "It turns out that when you buy an island, they let you name it."

"…like a ship," Esme said distractedly, still looking stunned. She was staring around her now, at the house, the beach, the trees above…and then finally, she met his eyes, and inwardly, Carlisle heaved a sigh of relief. She loved it—she didn't think it was too extravagant, as he'd worried she might. Esme, in all the years he'd known her, had never really thought herself worthy of the kinds of gifts he liked to give her—if he'd had his way, he'd send her flowers every day, though she preferred to grow her own; shower her with clothes and jewelry, though Esme didn't share her daughters' preoccupation with fashion; and buy her a house in every country on earth, despite the fact that she always said she'd rather stay with him than travel the world alone. For Esme, just being with him was a gift, and Carlisle felt the same about her—the island was just his latest attempt to show her how much he loved her, how grateful he was that she loved him in return, but it was also, Carlisle was amused to consider, a futile effort really. There was nothing he could give her that would ever equal everything she'd given him, even if they had the rest of eternity together.

"This is ours?" she whispered finally.

Carlisle grinned. "It's _yours_. It's your present. Esme, for fifty years, you've made my life wonderful every day, so I wanted to give you something that seemed as impossible as your loving me did when I first met you: a place where you could have some sunshine and be safe. Honestly, my gift to you is a bit selfish too—I love it here maybe as much as you do. And seeing you so happy…I think I'm enjoying that even more than the sun."

"…you said this was the golden anniversary," Esme said, smiling but looking a bit like she might cry. "Not the island anniversary."

Carlisle laughed, and they kissed, and with the sun blazing above and the warm sand below, both of them happily contemplated their next fifty years together.


	61. Island: 2007

Hi again—one more time, Happy Valentine's Day! My plans: watching "Chocolat," which is my traditional Valentines' Day movie…even though it's technically more of an Easter movie…oh well. :) Hope you enjoy and I'll see you next Sunday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and rice crispy treats are so very delicious…(I'm eating one now:)).

Island: _2007_

Esme's POV

Given everything that had happened the previous summer, it didn't really surprise Esme when she thought of how little time alone she and Carlisle had had the past few months: they'd been helping Bella adjust to her new life, spending time with Nessie, and enjoying the new, far stronger alliance with the Quileute wolf packs. Still, Esme was intrigued when Edward suggested she and Carlisle take a trip for Valentine's Day.

"Now that things have finally settled down, he'd be happy to get away," Edward told her confidently. "And the island's been unoccupied since our honeymoon…"

"I'll kidnap him for a few days then," Esme decided, speaking before Edward felt it necessary to mention the furniture he'd destroyed on his first and only trip so far to the island with Bella. The necessary repairs to the house and its furnishings had been made months before, but Edward was still apologetic, and more than a little embarrassed about it.

"Thank you," Edward muttered when he heard her resolution not to mention broken furniture. "Shall I go find Alice and ask about the weather?"

* * *

She bought the plane tickets and slipped them into a book he was reading one night. After he got home from work and sat beside her on the sofa near Edward's piano, he opened to the place he'd left a bookmark and found the tickets there instead. It was fun, Esme thought with a grin, to watch his face as he realized what they were—no wonder Carlisle liked to surprise her in similar ways.

"What's this?" he said, surprise quickly turning to delight.

"An early Valentine's Day gift," she told him. "Alice tells me that it's safe for us to go, and the weather's supposed to be perfect."

"And don't you need to check out the new furniture, Esme?" Emmett said loudly from his place in front of the TV.

"Edward and Bella just went home, Emmett, so there's no one here for you to embarrass," she said, kissing Carlisle swiftly before looking over the back of the sofa to give her son a meaningful look. "And you should be nice, you know. Remember your first house?"

"We destroyed a lot more than just the furniture," Rosalie said smugly, and Emmett laughed.

"Yes, we remember," Carlisle said gently, shaking his head at the memory. Esme smiled at him, and he winked—they'd both been relieved beyond measure (though not so much as Edward) when they'd bought a house for Rose and Emmett just a few weeks after they were married. The two had been happy to have more privacy, though not as happy as the rest of the family.

"Will you be able to get a few days off?" Esme asked quietly, thinking uneasily of all the time he'd taken off the previous summer—his absence at the time had been a bit conspicuous, and taking more vacation days now couldn't help matters—but Carlisle nodded.

"At this point, a few more days won't really make a difference. The hospital thinks I've been looking for a new job since Alice and Edward have graduated, and a new doctor starts on Monday anyway. They won't miss me."

"Shall we leave tomorrow then?" Esme said, beginning to smile at the thought of sun and sand—outside, it was cloudy and sleeting, as it had been for days.

Carlisle answered her with a kiss. "Let's go pack," he said.

* * *

"Have fun, you two!" Alice called as she dropped them off at the airport. They'd said goodbye to everyone else back at the house, including Jacob, who was still amazed by the fact that Esme really had an island named after her.

"You can visit sometime, if you'd like," Esme had offered, and then she'd had to laugh a little at his embarrassed expression.

"Yeah, me alone on an island with lovey dovey vampires, that wouldn't be awkward or anything…no thanks."

As always, the flight seemed short with Carlisle next to her—he'd been busy at work lately, and she'd been sketching Nessie compulsively for weeks in preparation for doing a painting of their granddaughter for her first birthday (though of course, it would be a gift that Edward and Bella would enjoy more than the subject herself), so they had plenty to talk about. They reached Rio in the middle of the night, disembarking from the plane surrounded by sleepy looking humans, and then they'd walked around the city until just before dawn, when they were able to rent a boat and head out to sea.

It was almost noon when they arrived. They'd kept covered up during the trip out on the off chance that they encountered any humans, but they met no other boats. Still, Esme was relieved when they reached the island—she'd been wearing a hat and sunglasses, and she'd tried to stay in what little shade the sides of their small boat had to offer, but it still might have made humans suspicious to see two people in long sleeves and dark glasses racing out to sea when the sun was barely up, and Carlisle agreed.

"It's lucky no one saw us," he said, shedding his own hat as they stepped onto the dock. "Dressed like this, we certainly look guilty of something."

Esme was about to mention the odd noise she'd thought she'd heard coming from the engine just before they'd stopped, but then she noticed something protruding from the side pocket of her suitcase. In being jostled by the boat, the bag had started to come unzipped, and now the white corner of an envelope was sticking out of the open space.

"What's this?" she wondered, unzipping the bag and showing Carlisle the envelope. It was unsealed, but addressed to both of them, and when Esme opened it, they found a note that read:

_Dear Carlisle and Esme,_

_ By the time you read this, I'm afraid that the engine of the boat you rented will have developed a crack that will make it impossible for you to get back to land without swimming. You're welcome to try and fix it, but let me just warn you right now that you don't have the parts you'd need to make it run properly again. Don't worry, someone will come in about two weeks to clean and bring fresh food—they can give you a ride back to the mainland then. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you this would happen, but you've both been working too hard and worrying too much for months now, and you need a real vacation—two weeks, not just a few days. So enjoy yourselves, and you're welcome to be mad when you get back (but I don't think you will be __). _

_ Love,_

_Alice_

Carlisle and Esme stared at each other for a few moments—Esme could tell that he was as surprised as she was, but not unpleasantly so. After all, it really would have been a shame to only visit the island for a few days, leaving again almost as soon as they'd arrived…

"She must have slipped this into my bag when she took us to the airport," Esme said at last.

"As parents," Carlisle said thoughtfully, "how exactly are we supposed to deal with one of our children allowing us to be stranded on a remote island in the South Atlantic?"

Esme thought about this for a moment. "Well," she said slowly, "maybe we should start by going inside and trying out the new furniture. Then, when we get home, we can ground Alice for…let's say five minutes."

"During which time we can thank her for stranding us here," Carlisle said, grinning at her, and Esme kissed him briefly, but then she thought of something. Glancing at her watch, she saw the date and smiled.

"Happy Valentine's Day," she said, taking his hand and pulling him toward the house, wondering cheerfully how long it would take before all the nice new furniture was destroyed. _Then we'll have to replace it again, _she thought dreamily, _and come back again to try it out._


	62. Compassion

Happy Wednesday, everyone! Sorry I completely missed last week _and_ the week before, but I had a midterm that basically consumed my life, so…yeah…(I hate computer programming so very, very much. It's not my major, but I have to take this class to graduate, and yikes, every minute is like an eternity…and not the good kind involving sexy vampires, the bad kind that involves syntax errors and similar horrors). And then I had spring break, so that's why I completely disappeared. From now on, I'm going to try to have a chapter or two prepared in advance of vacations…

This chapter takes place after chapter two, "Prodigal"—by the way, I just realized that this is the first Edward chapter I've done since November—how the heck did that happen?

Thanks for reading, and if you get a chance, it would be wonderful if you hit the green button at the bottom of the screen…

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 111 DAYS UNTIL "ECLIPSE"! (And the Twilight graphic novel comes out next week…SO EXCITED!)

_1932_: Compassion

Edward's POV

When I finally went back to Carlisle and Esme, I hadn't expected (or rather, I'd hardly dared to hope) that things would be the same between my parents and I. I'd assumed that their trust in me would be badly shaken by what I'd spent the last few years doing—my red eyes made it impossible to deny what I'd become—but instead, their thoughts, words and actions all made it clear that they were just glad to have me home. The way they saw it, I was their son, and there was no question of forgiving me for what I'd done. Of course, the thought of their forgiveness was a part of what had made it so hard to return to them; youthful rebellion (and thirst too) had driven me away in the first place, but the guilt I felt at having ever left, at having disappointed them, and the knowledge of how little I deserved their love and acceptance had kept me away for months after I'd first thought of going home.

While I'd been gone, one thing had changed: my parents had grown closer in my absence. Though they still seemed as giddy as newlyweds much of the time, they were more open with each other than I'd known them to be before. In the first few years of their marriage, I'd heard firsthand how hesitant they'd been to share anything unpleasant with each other: if Carlisle had a hard day at the hospital, he'd tried to hide his grief from Esme, and if Esme in turn was particularly troubled by her thirst, or bothered by memories of her human life, she tried to conceal her sorrow. Now, they told each other when they were unhappy, and I could see how much closer they'd become by being more honest with each other. I noticed that they still tried to shield their thoughts from me at times (which was a relief, really—one thing I hadn't missed while I was gone was overhearing my parents' amorous thoughts), but I was happy to see that they confided in and trusted each other more than ever now. _At least my years away from them did _some_ good,_ I told myself, though guilt gnawed at me when I thought of how they'd learned to rely on each other more out of their grief at my departure.

Esme had mostly grown out of the wildness of the newborn now, and it showed when I came back. After the years I'd spent hunting humans, years that she'd spent resisting the urge to do the same, it was as if our positions had been reversed from what they'd been when we first met: now, she was the one encouraging me when I was restless and distracted by thirst, telling me that it would get easier, and that soon I'd been able to go back to school…

She'd made more than one mistake while I'd been gone, but Esme had worked so hard to resist, had fought her thirst so diligently that now, almost eleven years into her new life, she could do things that had seemed unimaginable to her when she'd first been turned. Now, she was the one going to the library and taking out books for me. She could go shopping, on cloudy days she could sketch scenes in the city park, and she even talked to people she met on the street who knew her as Dr. Cullen's wife. When Carlisle told me (with obvious pleasure) that she'd been taking college classes, I wasn't surprised.

"You've really come a long way, Esme," I told her one day, and as she smiled modestly at the remark, I couldn't help but think,_ and I've gone back to the beginning_.

Carlisle, for his part, hadn't changed much. He was the same as always—happy to see me, and more than willing to overlook everything I'd done when he knew that I was determined to give up the life of a nomad. But he seemed happier than I remembered him—he was pleased (and relieved) by how far Esme had come in resisting her thirst, and how much her life had improved as a result, and with me back, he felt like his family was finally whole again. He understood, without ever having lived the way I had, how hard I was struggling to abstain again, and in spite of everything, he was still proud of me. So Carlisle was the same, in the sense that he was still the most forgiving, compassionate person I knew, this in spite of the thirst that made me moody and unpredictable.

Really thought, it wasn't as bad as being a newborn again. I'd tasted human blood, and so I had a keen sense of what I was missing every time I tore into the jugular vein of a deer, but weeks passed, and all three of us were careful. Carlisle and Esme kept humans away from the house, and unless we were all out hunting together, I stayed inside. I read a lot, and tried not to think about that taste, that indescribable feeling of relief I'd known when my thirst was sated by human blood. I was determined to give these things up forever, but it was hard, waiting, and knowing that only time would make things easier. Months passed before I finally began to feel like myself again, but just as I was starting to feel confident in my capacity for self-control, something tested my resolve to resist hunting humans.

It was on one of my first trips to town alone that I met her: Grace Harrison, a girl who'd been in my class when I'd graduated from high school back in Ashland. She and her husband had both been in my class, and I was surprised to discover that they'd moved to Rochester. I was just leaving the library when she spotted me from across the street, and after giving me a shy smile, she hurried away, but not before I saw what was left of a bruise, too faint for human eyes to notice, on the right side of her face. The nervous tenor of her thoughts bothered me, but I didn't speak to her that day.

I saw her again when I returned to the library the following week; this time I noticed more bruises, hastily covered by a thin sweater. The next week, there were more marks, and there were ever more the next week. Every time I saw her, I noticed the way her eyes seemed to search for mine—I could hear that she always hoped to see me—but then as soon as I saw her, or offered her a smile, she would turn away, and her thoughts would become fearful again as she hurried down the street. _Help me,_ her thoughts said clearly, and I knew why.

It was, in retrospect, a simple choice: I could satisfy my own desire for revenge against the man who'd hurt her, another student in our class whose callous thoughts had always bothered me, or I could find a way to help Grace without giving in to bloodlust, to the desire to kill someone who deserved it. The fact that Grace's situation reminded me of Esme's didn't help my resolve, but in the end, I knew what I had to do, not just for my parents, but so I could be the sort of person who I could stand to look in the mirror at.

The next week, I was ready. When she came out of the shop across from the library, I was waiting for her.

"Hello, Grace," I said, and then promptly stopped breathing—it was still painful at times to be so close to humans.

Grace started at the sound of my voice and gave me a smile that was equal parts wonder and pure terror. "…hello…Edward," she said at last.

"Here," I said quickly, handing her an envelope, making sure our hands didn't touch as I did so. "It's a long overdue graduation present."

She stared at me, still fearful, but when I nodded encouragingly at her, she opened the envelope, and started again when she saw what was inside: train tickets, for her and the three children I knew she had at home, and more money than she'd probably ever seen in her life.

"I can't…" she whispered, but I was already walking away—my air had run out, so I couldn't speak again to urge her to take the gift. Besides, I could hear that her mind was already made up: this chance, which had seemed so impossible a minute ago, wasn't an opportunity that she was about to pass up. I heard her hurry away as I moved toward the library to return my books and take out new ones, and after that day, I never saw her again.

Carlisle and Esme never spoke about it, though the disappearance of Grace and her children caused a minor scandal in Rochester, but I knew that they sensed I'd had a hand in it. It was, for me, another small step forward: my way of embracing my father's brand of compassion, and putting my past of dealing out judgment as I saw fit further behind me. It was a small thing, as far as good deeds went, but in the months and years that followed, as I continued to struggle and slowly began to master my thirst again, it was comforting to think that, like Carlisle, I was capable of compassion toward the tormented without first having to seek vengeance against their tormentors.


	63. Students

Happy end of the week, everyone! Sorry about not updating last week—in my programming class, the first midterm was so much fun that the professor thought we should have another one! Yay! (So…that's what I was occupied with instead of updating).

As it happens, college provided the inspiration for this chapter—wish I had a vampire to "study" with…:) This update is an Emmett chapter too, and Emmett chapters are pretty much always fun for me. :) Thanks so much for all your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you next week (unless I have another surprise midterm…)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer (not I) is the author of "Twilight," and THE TWILIGHT GRAPHIC NOVEL IS SO AWESOME, BUT NOW THAT I'VE READ IT I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEXT ONE!!!!!

_1961_: Students

Emmett's POV

It was a cool fall day, dry though the clouds above had been threatening rain all morning, and Emmett was engaged in a furious struggle not to laugh at his parents. It wasn't that they looked funny exactly—it was just strange to see them dressed like college students, which was what they were now. Carlisle had decided that it was time to get a new medical degree, Esme had wanted to study architecture again, and now it was the first day of the new semester, and Carlisle and Esme were walking across campus toward three of their children, holding hands, and actually managing not to look out of place.

"I'm not sure how I feel about this," Rosalie muttered, but Emmett could see that she was trying not to smile.

"It's definitely different," he agreed. "I'm surprised. Carlisle actually looks normal in jeans."

"He's only twenty-three, really," Edward pointed out. "Usually he dresses to look older."

"Esme too," Rosalie murmured, eying the outfit their mother was wearing. "I want a skirt like that..."

"So, "Esme said when she was close enough to speak, obviously enjoying herself. "How was everyone's first class?"

"Fine," Edward said with a shrug. "I've taken Calculus before, so it's a bit dull the second time around."

Esme nodded sympathetically. "So is Drawing 101, but the prerequisites to more interesting classes always are."

"Speaking of which, what is this, the hundredth time you've taken anatomy?" Emmett wondered, and Carlisle laughed.

"Something like that," he said. "The first year or two is always a bit repetitive."

Emmett shook his head. He liked college—it was fun to have more time alone with Rose than he did in the strictly scheduled world of high school, and the classes were interesting. But his parents' respective passions for art and medicine, and their willingness to sit through the same classes again every decade or two for the sake of learning more about their favorite subjects always amazed him. He wasn't nearly as patient, and neither was Rose; they had all their classes together this semester, but Emmett wasn't sure that either of them was going to follow through long enough to graduate. College involved a lot of work, which, to Emmett, seemed sort of ridiculous when all that resulted from years of effort was a piece of paper. It was different for humans, who finished college and got jobs, and for Carlisle and Esme, who would actually use what they learned here. But for Emmett, college was just one more way to spend forever with Rosalie. When she grew tired of the college student charade, then he'd be more than happy to give it up too. But as long as she enjoyed her time here, he'd at least bother to do his homework.

Edward smiled, probably at what he'd heard in Emmett's mind. "Alice says it's going to be cloudy on Saturday, if we want to go to the game," he offered, and Emmett grinned.

"Should we make it a family outing?" he asked.

Rosalie, Esme and even Carlisle sort of sighed—_playing_ football could be fun, but watching slower, weaker humans play wasn't something that the rest of the family found very entertaining—to Emmett though, it was hilarious.

"I'll go," Edward offered, though Emmett could see he wasn't thrilled by the prospect either. "Alice and Jasper might want to come too."

Rosalie rolled her eyes and Emmett laughed at the idea—he didn't need to be able to see the future or sense people's emotions to know that Alice and Jasper, who were currently attending high school together, weren't going to voluntarily watch football if they had the option to do anything else.

"Sorry, Emmett, but I think I'm going to have too much…studying to do," Esme finished unconvincingly, glancing at Carlisle as she spoke.

Emmett laughed. "Right, _studying_. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

"I'm going to ignore that innuendo and actually start some homework," Esme said, rolling her eyes at Emmett. She and Carlisle sat together on the grass, flipping through her new Art History book, and in spite of what they really were, the picture they presented was really that of two college sweethearts. Rosalie, on the other hand, wasn't very convincing in the role of the student—at least not in Emmett's eyes. For one thing, she was too easily distracted. Not that he felt like complaining though—at the moment, given the way she was staring at him, he was the distraction.

"After our next class, let's go home and…study," she whispered playfully.

Emmett grinned. "What subject?" he asked.

Rosalie stood up to lead the way toward their next class. "Anatomy," she said, trying and failing to sound innocent. "What else?"

Emmett laughed—even if the college part of college didn't really interest him much, he did love to be a student.


	64. Forgotten

Happy Friday, everyone! This week's chapter is a bit sad; Rosalie, when she discovers that Esme didn't kill Charles Evanson (as she'd always suspected), considers the impossibility of ever completely forgetting unpleasant memories, but how it might be beneficial to try. Thank you so much for all you wonderful reviews, and I'll see you next week (hopefully with two chapters)!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and my copy of "New Moon" finally came in the mail! (I say "finally," but I actually mean last Tuesday—I waited till this past weekend to watch it though, so I had time for an epic Twilight + New Moon movie marathon ).

_1974_: Forgotten

Rosalie's POV

The mail had just arrived one rainy Saturday, and Rosalie was sitting on the couch, watching Alice carefully paint the artificial fingernails she'd applied earlier that day, when Carlisle came downstairs. They'd moved into this house, an old Victorian on the edge of a forest in Maine, only a few days before, and Esme hadn't had time to rewire it yet, so there was only one phone, which sat on a table near the base of the stairs. Rosalie stared toward the hall, curious, when she heard Carlisle calling in sick to the hospital that day.

"It's been cloudy all day," she said, glancing at Alice, looking for an explanation. "Is it going to get sunny later?"

"No," Alice said quietly, and Rosalie frowned. Alice was concentrating a little too closely on the tiny brush in her hand.

"What?" Rosalie said suspiciously. "Did you see something?"

"Yes, and I can already see you getting mad about it, so I might as well tell you and get it over with," Alice muttered, sounding resigned. "Esme's former husband—Charles Evanson, remember? Someone found his body yesterday."

Rosalie stared at Alice blankly. "He was…alive? Until yesterday?"

Alice bit her lip and shook her head. "No, he died in 1927. The only thing they found were bones, but now there's going to be this huge investigation. I guess the person who found his skeleton sort of makes a hobby of unsolved murder cases—he's some old rich guy, and the bones were found in a lake on his property, so now he wants to find out who they belonged to."

"And are they going to?" Rosalie wondered, her nails forgotten now.

"Yes," Alice said grimly. "I told Carlisle and Esme about it this morning. I can see someone finding out that a man name Charles Evanson disappeared in the area fifty-three years ago, and they'll connect that fact to the discovery of these bones, but I can see that they'll never find out who did it. Esme isn't worried about anyone suspecting us, she just feels bad that Edward's going to feel guilty now."

Rosalie stared at Alice blankly. "Edward? Why would he feel guilty? Wasn't Esme the one who killed him?"

"No," Alice said quietly. "Edward did. He left after I told him about all this—he wanted some time alone. I had a vision about him on our way home from school yesterd—Rose, wait!"

Rosalie heard Alice sigh behind her as she shot up the stairs and knocked on Carlisle and Esme's door. Carlisle opened it, his expression sympathetic as opposed to angry, which only further confused and infuriated Rosalie, but then, without a word, he left the room, leaving the door open behind him.

"Come in, Rose," Esme said gently.

Rosalie examined her mother doubtfully before shutting the door behind her. Esme didn't look particularly sad, just…thoughtful. What was there to be thoughtful about?

"I take it you heard us talking just now?" Rosalie said, struggling to keep her voice even, calm. If Carlisle could be calm about this, then so could she.

Esme nodded, then stared out the window for a moment. "It must seem strange to you, Rose, that Edward was the one who did it and not me."

"I never asked because I always just assumed you'd done it," Rosalie said incredulously. "I mean…why didn't you?"

Esme shrugged. "Because that part of my life was over, and I wanted it to stay that way. I did worry about him, what he'd been up to, I mean, after I disappeared. I wondered if he'd…remarried, and hurt someone else, or had children he'd hurt too."

"You could have stopped that from happening," Rosalie whispered furiously, failing to keep a note of accusation out of her voice.

"That's true," Esme said quietly. Then she looked up at Rosalie. "You're upset."

"Of course," Rosalie said through gritted teeth. "Why didn't you kill that despicable creature?"

"Because it wouldn't have changed anything," Esme said, shaking her head. "It wouldn't have made me feel better, and it wouldn't have undone the years I spent with him. I wanted…to just forget him—to behave as though he didn't exist anymore. It does seem a little foolish to me now," she said sadly, "because he _did_ exist. And if he went on to hurt someone else…well, I don't feel sorry that Charles is dead, but imagining him hurting another wife…or children…" Esme shuddered slightly. "And now Edward's going to feel guilty about this whole thing all over again. Ever since he came back to us, he's felt bad—not about killing Charles so much as doing it without telling me, when he knew that I didn't want him to."

Rosalie sat down beside her on the bed, still fuming, but now she found herself struggling to understand what Esme was feeling, and more importantly, what had kept her from killing the man who had made her life a living hell for years.

"Were you…afraid of him?" Rosalie wondered. The idea seemed laughable, given Esme's strength and speed—no human could hurt her physically. But had Esme left Charles alone for all those years after she'd become a vampire out of irrational fear rather than a misplaced feeling of mercy?

But Esme was already shaking her head. "No, that wasn't it. I really had very nearly forgotten him—given the way he drank when I knew him, I never imagined he'd live very long after I left…or at least, that's what I told myself. Really, I think it was more that ever since Carlisle explained to me what I was after the change was complete, Charles has been dead to me. When I was finally free, and I understood that he couldn't hurt me anymore…well, I didn't really feel much of anything about him after that. It felt like the person he'd hurt had died, and I'd become someone else entirely—someone who never wanted to even spare a thought for that man. The memories I had of him…they hurt me sometimes. But the man himself seemed like more of a bad dream than a reality that I needed to confront."

Rosalie thought about this for a moment. "And now…you feel guilty that you let him live?" she said at last.

Esme sighed. "I'm not sure about that. I've always known that I would have regretted killing him, if I had—out of guilt at killing a human, yes, but also because if I'd shed his blood…well, the idea of drinking that, of not being able to help myself, sickened me."

Rosalie nodded quickly—she'd felt the same about Royce.

"Now though," Esme went on, "I'm amazed that I never considered what he was capable of, that the violence in him didn't necessarily begin and end with me. I was happier that way of course, living my life without my memories of him souring things, but now I realize that I should have done _something_ about him, so Edward wouldn't have felt he had to. I spent so many years not giving him a thought that it never occurred to me that he might hurt someone else."

"When did Alice tell you his body had been found?" Rosalie asked.

"This morning," Esme said, and Rosalie sighed. Of course. Alice had seen that miserable human's remains being discovered, and then she'd probably seen Rosalie confronting their mother about him like this.

"She had a vision of a newspaper article about it yesterday," Esme explained, "and then she told me that it would be published today. It'll be a few more days before people start to put together whose remains they might be. When I told Carlisle, he asked if I'd mind if he stayed with me today." Esme smiled sadly and shrugged. "Your father's the most compassionate person I've ever met, but I don't think he knows how to feel about this either."

Rosalie nodded. "That makes sense," she muttered. Charles Evanson was probably the only human on the planet that Carlisle might have voluntarily killed—a word from Esme, and he probably would have. But Rosalie knew her parents well enough to realize that being true to who they were—existing as nonviolently as possible for the bloodthirsty creatures they were—meant more to them than the temporary satisfaction that revenge would have afforded. Rosalie understood the feeling, but she didn't share it, and though she and Edward didn't always get along, Rosalie felt a sudden swell of approval toward her brother. Even if it had been against Esme's wishes, Rosalie was glad that Edward had killed Charles Evanson, if only because that had stopped him from hurting

"Carlisle's calling to ask for a copy of the article now, so we can keep track of the story as it progresses," Esme went on, staring out at the rain for a moment. "I don't know if Charles remarried after I left—Edward didn't find out before he…well, before he killed Charles and disposed of what was left. If he did remarry though, I want to find out. I've put it off for far too long, but now I need to know, and if he did have a wife and…children, then maybe we can send some money to them. I know it's far too late to try and compensate them for his death, of course but even after all this time, I'd feel better if we could give them something…"

Rosalie shook her head, amazed. She knew that if Charles Evanson had had a wife and children after Esme, then they were hardly to blame for what he was. Still, she couldn't imagine herself reaching out to Royce's family in such a way. "You're a much more forgiving person than I am."

Esme smiled sadly. "I didn't forgive him though—I just forgot him. At least, I tried to. But now I worry about the consequences of that choice."

Rosalie was still angry, but she was beginning to understand what Esme meant—if she _could_ have forgotten Royce, she would have, and it might have been better for her to do so. For decades, the memory of how he'd ended her human life had made her bitterly resent her immortality, and she'd imagined that Esme must have felt the same about her former husband. But now, Rosalie saw that she'd been wrong.

"You sort of…took a more satisfying form of revenge than I did," Rosalie said finally. "I mean, by not thinking about him, you were able to live a happy life. But even after I killed Royce, I still hated him. And I think I always will."

Esme hugged her gently, and after a moment of hesitation, Rosalie hugged her back. "It's easy to say that it's better to forgive and forget," Esme said quietly. "But it's hard to do that when you have forever to remember these things. Now, I need to go find Edward. I think he needs a hug right now too."

Rosalie sighed and closed her eyes. She still wasn't sure that she agreed with what her mother had done, or rather, what she hadn't done, but she agreed with her on this point at least. She couldn't forgive—not yet, and maybe not ever—but she could try to forget the memories that had once made this life, and the perfect memory of an immortal, seem so hateful.


	65. Enemies

Hi everyone! I've got two chapters for this week, so I'm posting one today and one on Friday: this one is about Jacob, after the battle in "Eclipse"—I love to imagine his thoughts about the Cullens before breaking away from Sam's pack in "Breaking Dawn." (I finished re-reading "Eclipse" a couple weeks ago, and what with the beautiful stills from the movie I keep seeing online, I've still got it on the brain :)). Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews—it really does make my day every time I read one :)--and I'll see you Friday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of Twilight—I am only borrowing her characters for fun. Also, "The Host" comes out in paperback next week, so that's pretty neat. :)

_2006_: Enemies

Jacob's POV

It was a few hours after the battle, and I was lying in bed, trying not to think about all my broken bones, when I heard Quil and Embry come in. They'd both gone home after Dr. Cullen had left—Billy had ordered everyone, even Sam, out of the house when the doc said that I need to rest, but now that the pain meds were wearing off enough for me to feel semi-awake, I was looking forward to talking to someone. Quil and Embry especially—they'd want to talk about the battle, to relive every attack, every leech they'd taken out, and I'd be happy to join in—it was easier than lying here and thinking about Bella, and wondering what we'd say to each other the next time I saw her.

I heard Quil knock before he poked his head through the doorway to stare at me. "Hey. You awake?"

"No, Quil," I muttered, still sounding pretty drugged, even to my own ears. "I'm looking at you, and I'm talking to you, but I'm still asleep. Did Sam come with you?"

"No, he's with Emily," Quil said, taking a seat on the edge of my bed so Embry could squeeze into the room and stand by the window. "Seth said he'd come over though. I thought Sue was never going to quit hugging him when she heard what happened."

"Your Mom was just as bad," Embry said, rolling his eyes. "Actually though, so was mine. And I heard Kim tell Jared that the next time he tries to run off and fight an army of vampires, she'll break his legs if she has to to keep him from going."

"Tell her to use a crowbar or something," I said, remembering Bella's broken finger from the time she'd hit me. "Is Billy asleep?"

"Yeah, he dozed off in front of the TV," Quil said. "We were watching through the window, and we waited till he started snoring before we snuck in. He was pretty freaked out earlier."

"Yeah," I muttered, remembering the expression on Billy's face when they'd carried me inside, looking like the right side of my body had been crushed by a boulder, which was sort of what had happened. Damned vampires. Damned Leah too. I bet she wouldn't be visiting any time soon, which was good, because I really didn't want to break any more bones by getting up and trying to knock the stupid out of her.

"You know, I never thought I'd say it, but today I'm really happy that leeches exist," Embry said, grinning at Quil, who nodded. "First we got to kill a bunch, which was pretty sweet, and then, when you got banged up, Cullen fixed you up."

"You're right," I agreed. "Thanks to Dr. Fang, we didn't have to try to explain to a human doctor why my temperature's ten degrees too high."

"Or how you got hurt," Quil said. "I still can't believe Charlie Swan bought the motorcycle crash story."

"Yeah, I bet Bella had to hear a new lecture about the dangers of motorcycles when she got home today," I said, smiling at the thought. I ignored Quil and Embry when they both rolled their eyes—any time I mention Bella, they react this way, and I can't really blame them—having to hear about Sam from Leah's perspective is definitely unpleasant.

"Too bad we can't tell him that her friends the Cullens are way worse than any bike," Quil said. "Do you think she's ever gonna tell him the truth about them?"

"She can't, remember?" Embry pointed out. "It's not like with us, where we can tell our families and whoever we imprint with. Vampires have that creepy Italian family that tries to keep it a secret, don't they? So if they find out a human knows about them, it's bad news."

"Hope they come here sometime," Quil muttered, his voice low and eager. When he noticed my expression, he shrugged. "Hey, don't get mad. I'm just saying that after today, I think another fight would be pretty cool, especially if it was between us and those Italian bloodsuckers. Aren't they coming to check on Bella sometime anyway?"

"When they come to do that, we can take them out," Embry said, grinning at the thought, and I rolled my eyes. Maybe it was the whole broken bones thing, or the idea of Bella being turned into a leech, but suddenly, I really didn't want to think about vampires anymore today. Unfortunately, Seth chose that moment to show up, and as he slipped past Billy and into my room, I saw that there was still a big smile on the kid's face. He'd been grinning ever since he'd shifted back to human after the battle, and I was starting to think that the expression was permanent.

"Hi," he whispered, glancing out toward the living room—I could hear Billy's snoring now too, so apparently he hadn't noticed Seth come in. "Are you feeling any better, Jake?"

"Aside from all the broken bones and the pain meds that are making me feel weird, yeah, I'm just great, Seth, thanks," I muttered irritably.

"Right," he said, the grin fading a little bit. "Sorry about Leah. She's…"

"Kind of an idiot?" Quil offered.

"Or she's got a death wish," Embry said, shaking his head. "Seriously, that was a pretty dumb move she pulled back there."

"Leah's just…Leah," Seth said lamely, trying to defend her, but not really knowing how under the circumstances. "I mean, she wanted to show that she's just as strong as the rest of us."

"Yeah, and instead she bit off more than she could chew, no pun intended," I muttered. The bloodsucker who'd nearly broken me in half had been ripped to shreds by my packmates seconds after we'd collided, and I remembered hearing Leah's thoughts, which had been more angry than worried, when I had, in her eyes, ruined her chance at a moment of glory. "Not that she got a chance to do much biting, thanks to me. The next time you see her, tell Leah I'm _really_ sorry that I spoiled her shot at trying to use a leech as a chew toy."

"She sort of did—I mean, after you blocked its attack," Embry pointed out. "We all got in a few bites before we threw it on the fire."

"What pissed her off was that you had to go and save her," Quil said, rolling his eyes. "Because of course, she didn't _need_ saving. She had it all under control."

"Is your Mom mad?" Embry wondered. Seth was staring at the floor now, looking more subdued than I'd seen him all day.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "She gets that Leah's having a hard time, but she doesn't like it that Leah's sort of…making things harder on the rest of us too. Like with, you know, thinking about Sam, or trying to prove herself like she did today."

"As soon as she quits trying to prove that she's a badass, she'll have proved to me that at least she has a brain in her head," Quil muttered, giving the braces holding all my bones in the right places a dirty look. "So how long are you going to be laid up like this?"

"Doc said he wasn't sure," I said, shifting my position a little—it was really annoying having to stay still like this. "Apparently, I'm healing way faster than a human would, but it's not like a normal injury, like a cut that'd heal in a few minutes. He said because the breaks are so bad, it might be a few days."

Embry whistled. "Wow. You really did get messed up, huh?"

"Yeah," I said drily. "Thanks, Embry."

"Oh," Seth said suddenly. "My Mom sent some food over—I left it in the kitchen, but do you want some now?"

"No thanks," I muttered. "Right now I feel like even trying to chew might hurt."

"By the way Seth, great job saving Jacob's girlfriend today," Quil said, smacking him on the back.

Seth started grinning again. "Well, Edward did half of the saving," he said, trying and failing to sound humble. "Man, can you believe how fast vampires can move? It was so crazy watching Edward fight that redheaded one!"

"Yeah, it was freaky to see all the Cullens in action today," Embry said, shaking his head at the memory. "Even the smallest ones, Alice and Esme, held their own at a least. And that big one, Emmett? Remember when he took out two at once?"

"It's good they're our allies," Quil agreed, "but I wonder how much longer the truce is gonna last."

A split second after he'd shut his mouth, Quil, Embry and Seth all seemed to realize he'd said something that would really piss me off—I could feel the way they all sort of froze, and then Seth actually took a step back from the bed. "I mean, you know, how many more years," Quil said quickly, but it was too late—I was already fighting to stop my limbs from shaking, willing myself to calm down and not phase—if I did, I'd probably destroy the house, in addition to re-breaking a ton of bones. For a few seconds, I wasn't sure that I'd be able to control myself, but gradually, the shaking slowed down, and suddenly, I just felt exhausted as opposed to furious.

"I really need to get some sleep, you guys," I said finally, my voice flat. I didn't look at any of them, worrying that if I met Quil's eyes now, I'd really snap—not so much because I disagreed with him, but because I was afraid he was right. Just because Bella had kissed me today didn't mean she'd choose me, and if she chose Cullen instead…then the treaty would be broken, and things would get really ugly.

"Sorry," Quil muttered.

"See you later, Jake," Embry said quietly, and then the three of them left. I continued to stare at the wall beside my bed long after the house was quiet again, trying to relax and let the pain meds that hadn't already been burned out of my system lull me to sleep. Unfortunately, thinking about the meds reminded me of Dr. Cullen, and how he'd patched me up today.

If I'd been in his place, I wasn't sure what I would have done—he'd been surrounded by werewolves when he'd set my bones, and more than once, even in my drugged state, it had looked to me like several of my pack brothers had been about to phase and rip him to shreds. But he'd fixed me up anyway—even though I hated him, or at least hated what he was, and the fact that his son was trying to take away the person that mattered most to me forever. In spite of all that, he didn't seem to see us as enemies. If the treaty were broken, could I ever kill someone like that? I remembered earlier, the way the doc and his wife had looked at each other before the battle, and in that moment at least, they hadn't seemed like monsters. They'd seemed…human.

_Stop it_, I told myself firmly. _The Cullens aren't friends. They're enemies._

I repeated this fact to myself over and over, but a part of me still wasn't convinced, and it was a long time before I finally fell asleep.

* * *

If you get a minute, please review! :)


	66. Prepared

Hi again—thank you for all your wonderful reviews of Wednesday's chapter! (I'm always happy when someone says that even thought they don't much care for Jacob, they liked a Jacob chapter anyway :)). Here's a chapter about the preparations for Bella's wedding--hope that everyone has a great weekend and I'll see you next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of Twilight and OHMYGOD, I'M SO EXCITED FOR "THE SHORT SECOND LIFE OF BREE TANNER"!!!!!

_2006_: Prepared

Bella's POV

Edward and I were sitting on the porch of the Cullens' house with Carlisle and Esme—Alice had wanted all of us to try on our clothes for the wedding, and then she'd ordered us outside while she made whatever tiny alterations our respective dresses and suits needed. Rosalie had gone somewhere with Emmett, and Jasper was off hunting, again; he'd been hunting every other day for the past week. It was going to be difficult for him to be surrounded by humans at the wedding, and he was doing everything he could to manage his thirst. There were two weeks to go before the big day, a fact which terrified me as much as it delighted Alice, who'd lately seemed almost incandescent with happiness, and now here I was, waiting for her to announce the latest detail of my increasingly complicated and correspondingly frightening wedding.

"Alice is certainly enjoying herself," Esme muttered, concentrating on unwinding my hair from the intricate braid that Alice had fashioned earlier—my maid of honor seemed to have an unlimited store of ideas of what she could do with my hair, and apparently, the only way she could decide which one was best was to try a new style every day. Esme was seated on the porch swing beside me now, carefully removing bobby pins from my hair, her cool fingers soothing my sore scalp, and Edward was sitting on the porch in front of me, leaning back against my legs.

"You know, you really have the patience of a saint," he said, smiling up at me.

"Two more weeks," I said grimly, repeating the words like a mantra. "Two more weeks. That's only fourteen days—thirteen, not counting the day of the wedding. After that, Alice is forbidden from ever touching my hair again."

"She just wants everything to be perfect so you have a lot of fond memories of your wedding," Esme said soothingly, "…even though she might be going about things a little too enthusiastically."

"I'm going to have plenty of memories all right," I muttered. "_Fond_ might not be the word I'd use for all of them though. Do you think she went all out like this when she and Jasper got married?"

Esme laughed, and looked at Carlisle, who was chuckling too. "No, they were already married when they found us, and from what I've heard, it was a very small ceremony."

"I think they were married the day after they met," Carlisle said thoughtfully, winking at Esme, and I couldn't help but groan.

"Let me guess," I said. "You guys had a really small wedding too?"

"I was the only guest," Edward said, smiling at his parents, "and these two got married the day after Carlisle proposed."

I stared at Esme, who was grinning now as she continued to remove pins from my hair. "No designer dress or anything?" I said, pretending to look horrified.

Esme laughed again. "I wore a new white dress that I'd ordered from a catalog, some jewelry Edward gave me, and some flowers from our garden—that was it." Then she looked up at Carlisle. "And I thought you looked very dashing in your best suit, but Alice might have said it was a bit old-fashioned."

"She would have been horrified at my lack of fashion sense," Carlisle agreed, smiling. "The cut was very nineteenth century, since I'd bought in 1899. It wasn't until a few years later, when we started going to concerts every so often, that I even bought a new one."

This allusion to the time when Esme and Edward had both been so new to immortality distracted me for a moment. None of the Cullens had been able to give me a very good estimate of how long it would take before my newborn wildness started to fade, the argument being that everyone was different. Still, I wondered just how many years had passed before Esme had been able to control her thirst enough for her to go out with Carlisle and Edward. How many years would it take before Edward and I could go to a movie or a play or something without either of us worrying I'd suddenly snap and attack the people in the audience around us?

"I'm so excited to finally meet your mother face to face, Bella," Esme said with a smile, snapping me out of my anxious thoughts about the future.

I smiled back at her. "I know she's really looking forward to it too," I said. "After talking to you about all this wedding stuff, I think she's relieved to know that I'm not going to have a scary mother-in-law."

Esme laughed. "A blood-drinking mother-in-law, yes, but a scary mother-in-law, no."

Edward stood up suddenly. "Alice wants me to try on my tux again," he muttered, kissing me briefly on the forehead before going inside. When he was gone, it was a little easier for me to relax. Sure, I was worried about the wedding, but Edward was painfully uneasy about the honeymoon that would follow, so for days, I'd been trying not to bring up the subject of him changing me. Now that I was alone with Carlisle and Esme though, I wanted to ask a few more questions about what was to come, never mind that I'd asked about a million questions already.

"Before Edward comes back," I said, speaking quickly and quietly. "I just wanted to ask if...do you guys think…I mean, is there any chance that it might be safe for me to see Renée and Charlie again…afterwards?"

Esme didn't move, but I could feel her turn to look at Carlisle, who sighed quietly. I realized that my question had only momentarily caught them off guard—they'd probably been wondering when this subject would come up again.

"We're not really sure what the best thing to do here is, Bella," he said at last.

"But not seeing them…might be best?" I asked. I really didn't want to press this issue, but it was exactly the kind of thing that Edward wouldn't want to tell me the truth about—he wouldn't lie, but he'd say something comforting and noncommittal instead of telling me what he really thought we should do.

Esme squeezed my shoulder gently. "It would probably be the safest thing for them, Bella, but we can't be certain of that. In the long run, it might actually be more conspicuous if we go through with the story of your dying. If your parents ask too many questions about how it happened, then that wouldn't be safe for any of us."

"Having them know the truth and understanding the importance of keeping our secret might be best," Carlisle agreed. "Your situation is unique—I changed the others back when information wasn't so easily and widely circulated. But now, between your father being a police officer, and the ease with which information about your death or disappearance would spread, it might well be far riskier to ask you to go through the charade of being dead, to say nothing of how unpleasant that would be."

I imagined myself pretending to be a corpse in the presence of Charlie and Renée, and shuddered at the thought. "Okay," I said finally. "So, maybe I'll actually be able to see them?"

"After Edward changes you," Carlisle said thoughtfully, "we can see how you manage your thirst. Illness as an explanation for your absence from the human world will only be acceptable for a few months at most, so if you're safe enough to see your parents after that, then that might be the best way to avoid attracting attention."

I kind of got the feeling that Carlisle and Esme were both trying to make the idea of seeing my parents, which was what I wanted, seem like the thing that was best for everyone, and though I wasn't really sure that that was true, it was nice to hear it, even if they were just trying to comfort me like Edward would have.

"What about…hunting? As a newborn, I mean." I asked. This was a much less difficult question, but I was still really curious. "Edward's sort of been reluctant to go into too much detail about that."

Esme actually snorted with laughter, and she and Carlisle immediately relaxed—this would be easier for them to answer. "That's just because it's a bit embarrassing at first," she explained, still chuckling.

I stared at her. "Embarrassing?"

"Messy," Carlisle explained. "The first time I discovered an unsuspecting herd of deer in a forest north of London, by the time I'd finished feeding, I was soaked from head to foot in blood and bits of deer."

I couldn't help but sort of gasp with laughter at the impossible mental picture of Carlisle drenched in blood and gore, looking like something out of a horror movie about vampires instead of the always neatly dressed person in front of me. "Wow," I said carefully, trying not to giggle. Giggling, I worried, might make me sound a little insane, or at least faintly hysterical. "And…it was like that for all of you?"

"Yes, Bella honey, we're all pretty unskilled at first," Esme said kindly. "I almost died of embarrassment the first time Carlisle and Edward took me hunting."

"You weren't so bad," Carlisle said, smiling, but his tone was unconvincing, and Esme shook her head at the memory.

"I was awful," she said, rolling her eyes. "I don't recommend hunting in a skirt until you've had more practice."

"Okay," I said, grinning. "Thanks for the advice."

Just then, Edward reappeared, and Alice danced out the door behind him, looking elated.

"Edward's all done!" she sang, looking at me thoughtfully. "One more fitting, Bella, and you will be too. And I've got another idea for your hair—ready to see it?"

I stood up, trying not to sigh, and felt Esme squeeze my hand gently in support of whatever frightening fashion experiment was to come. Carlisle winked at me when Alice wasn't looking, and Edward kissed me on the cheek, whispering, "good luck," before Alice pulled me inside. Yes, I was ready to see my wedding dress again, and Alice's latest idea for my hair, but I was also ready to be Edward's wife, forever. Every member of my new family, but Carlisle and Esme especially, were making sure that I was as prepared as possible for the ups and downs of immortality. All I had to do now was survive my wedding first.

* * *

See you next Wednesday with a new chapter! :)


	67. History

Happy Friday everyone! Sorry I'm updating later than I thought I would—I only have two finals this semester, but that means that I've had lots of papers and presentations and so forth this week—but now I'm all done with that stuff, which means a chapter today, and then another one in a day or two! Today's chapter is about Jasper struggling to control his thirst when in close proximity to humans, and how the other Cullens try to help him. For some reason, this chapter is really long…I'm used to Jasper chapters being fairly short, so the way this one slowly grew caught me by surprise. Thank you for your fantastic reviews, and I'll see you again sometime this weekend!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 74 DAYS UNTIL ECLIPSE!

_1959_: History

Jasper's POV

It was July, and Jasper was determined: in the fall, he was going to enroll in high school with Alice. To do that though, he still needed to work on resisting the tantalizing scent of human blood. That's why he'd gone to the museum with Carlisle, Esme, and Alice. Edward was around somewhere too, the idea being that if Jasper lost control, Edward and Carlisle together would be more than able to subdue him and sneak him out of the building before anyone noticed, but for the moment, Jasper wasn't thinking about that. His throat was burning, and he knew how quickly any of the humans around him could slake that thirst, but that wasn't important. The thing to focus on was how wonderful it felt to be in a public place with Alice, where people could see that they belonged to each other. In spite of the thirst, Jasper felt more human than he had in decades, and when Alice turned to smile at him, he grinned. This wasn't easy, but it wasn't impossible either.

Edward reappeared then—he'd obviously heard Jasper thinking about thirst—but he relaxed as soon as he saw his newest brother between Alice and Carlisle, his eyes golden, still in control of himself. After a few seconds of careful observation, Edward wandered off toward another wing of the building, reading the captions beneath displays and trying to look unconcerned, but Jasper could feel his unease. These outings were almost as uncomfortable for Edward as they were for Jasper, since the former could hear all about the latter's thirst, not to mention the myriad of ways he could think of to strike at any human who got too close—if only the others would look away from him for just a few seconds…

Jasper shook his head. He was really trying, but decades of experience at hunting humans made it hard not to think through the best way to attack in any situation. When he'd been with Maria, he'd always planned carefully before bringing down his prey, because in that moment of comparative vulnerability, he'd worried that one of the newborns he was supposed to be controlling might lash out at him, eager to take his place at Maria's side. And in the weeks before he'd left her, Jasper had worried that Maria herself might attack him if he turned his back on her just long enough to feed…

"I'm okay, right?" he whispered to Alice, who looked at him closely. Jasper hated to ask, hated to worry her, but today it seemed that the harder he tried not to think about thirst, the more his mind returned to his old ways of hunting, and thinking about that made his thirst even harder to bear.

Alice was frowning slightly, but then her face relaxed. "You're okay," she said quietly, smiling up at him. "You're about to see something that will keep your mind off thirst for a bit."

Jasper raised his eyebrows and let Alice lead him into the next room, where Carlisle and Esme were already standing by a glass display case. Jasper realized with amusement that this was an exhibit of military uniforms from various periods in American history. Most of the uniforms came from the first and second World Wars, but there were also some from the Civil War. This was Minnesota, so there were few Confederate uniforms on display, but of those that were, one looked very familiar…

"That's a captain's uniform," Jasper said, smiling at the familiar outfit—he was surprised that it could still be familiar when he hadn't worn such clothes in almost a century. "It's pretty well reserved too—almost the same color as mine was…"

Later, Jasper would wonder if he might have fared better in the winter; then, all the windows in the building would have been closed, so though the heady scent of human blood would have surrounded him, he wouldn't have been caught off guard. But since it was July, there were windows open, and one errant breeze was all it took to send the impossibly appetizing scent of the humans closest to him—a young girl standing beside her mother—crashing into Jasper's face. Edward heard what he was thinking, or rather, heard the desperate desire he suddenly felt to slake his thirst, and beside him, he heard Alice gasp when she saw the possible future of bloody chaos just seconds away, but Jasper didn't care, he was already moving, already preparing to spring—

He'd forgotten about Carlisle though—Alice's hand was possible to shake off, and she was too small to hold him back, but Carlisle was nearly Jasper's equal in height and weight, and though he wasn't strong enough to hold the other vampire by himself for long, he managed to catch hold of Jasper's arms and hold on long enough for Edward to appear out of whatever dark corner he'd been lurking in. Esme had already found an exit, and Carlisle and Edward were dragging him toward it just seconds after the smell of blood had first hit him.

"Well, that was better than last month," Edward said grimly, stuffing Jasper none too gently into the car before getting in himself. Alice frowned at him, then looked at Jasper, who shrugged.

"He's right," Jasper muttered. "Last time, I couldn't stop growling and struggling until we got to the parking lot."

"You did really well though," Alice said firmly. "Those people were less than ten feet away—you're getting better at handling humans in close quarters."

"And I don't think anyone noticed your attempt to attack this time," Carlisle said bracingly, getting into the front seat after he'd opened and then closed Esme's door for her. "You really have improved, Jasper."

"Right," Jasper said, trying and failing not to sound too bitter about his continued sensitivity to the scent of humans. "I almost killed them quietly."

"You were in control of yourself enough not to make any noise after we'd grabbed you," Carlisle pointed out, still trying to be optimistic. "And you didn't struggle."

"Carlisle's right," Edward said reluctantly—Jasper noticed the look he exchanged with Alice. "No one noticed you this time."

"And no one's going to say anything," Alice said, squeezing his hand. "Really, if you want to try again—"

"Not today," Jasper said quietly. Now that he was away from the smell of humans, he wasn't quite so desperately thirsty, but he still wanted to hunt. "Maybe next week."

"Okay," Alice said, leaning against his shoulder. As Carlisle started the car, Jasper heard Edward, who was sitting on Alice's other side, sigh very quietly. Jasper suspected that even if it hadn't been for his gift, he would have been able to sense Edward's disapproval of these attempts to acclimate him to the presence of humans, so he shifted his attention to Esme, who smiled sympathetically at him from the rearview mirror, and Carlisle, who was staring out at a red light, looking thoughtful. Both felt relieved that they'd escaped unnoticed (and without injuring any humans), which was easier to feel than Alice's confidence in future attempts like this or Edward's lack thereof. Jasper was disappointed—why was it still so hard for him?—but he wanted to believe that it was getting easier, perhaps so gradually that he hadn't even noticed. Maybe next week, there wouldn't be any close calls—it had happened before.

Two years after Alice had found the Cullens, Jasper had gone with the rest of the family to an outdoor concert. It was the first time that he'd been among humans since he'd stopped hunting them, and though he and the others had sat upwind from the crowd, it had still been terrible, even though the closest humans had been at least fifty yards away. But he hadn't tried to kill anyone that night, and from then on, he'd been taking trips every week or two with various members of the family. Usually, there were no problems—the thirst was unpleasant, but not overwhelming. Occasionally though, incidents like the one at the museum would occur; a human would take a step too close, or their scent would be carried toward him by on the wind, and then he'd lose control completely.

They'd had to leave the last town they'd lived in because of him—that had been in Oregon. Jasper had gone to the park at dusk to play football with Emmett and Edward, and they'd played until well after midnight. He'd let his guard down, he realized that now—he'd relaxed, sure that there were no humans to worry about there, not at that time of night…but then a familiar scent had hit his nose, and he'd almost tripped over an old man, walking his dog. Alice told him later that the man had been unable to sleep—he lived a block from the park, which was why by the time she saw him decide to act, it had been too late to find Jasper or the others to warn them. It had been just a few days since he'd hunted last, but Jasper hadn't been able to resist that intoxicating scent.

As soon as the uproar over the man's disappearance had died down a bit, they'd left town. Jasper's victim (he tried to silence the part of himself that still thought the word "meal" instead) had been a widower with no children, and when no one else vanished, he'd quickly been forgotten, though in the small town they'd lived in, such occurrences were rare. Alice had seen that the Cullens' departure from the town would cause little stir, and just a few weeks after the night he'd killed the man, they were in a new house, Carlisle had found work at a new hospital, and Alice and the others had started at a new school. They'd been living in Minnesota for a few months now, and things were getting better…slowly. Jasper hadn't killed anyone—not yet at least—and Alice was happy that he seemed to be improving, but the others were still less than thrilled with him.

Rosalie had been livid when they'd had to leave Oregon, and though Edward and Emmett did a better job of mastering their irritation, they hadn't liked being uprooted either. Only Alice, Carlisle and Esme hadn't minded, and in some ways, their easy acceptance of the situation had bothered him more than the impatience of his siblings; after so many years of life in the South, it was still strange to Jasper to be part of a family. The idea that anyone could really care for him—support him even, not just in spite of his violent history, but _because_ of the things he'd survived—was still difficult to believe at times.

During the quiet car ride on the way home from the museum, Jasper tried to resign himself to what he now realized was inevitable. _I probably shouldn't plan on starting school in the fall, should I? _he thought, knowing that Edward would hear the question.

Edward shook his head very slightly, and though he was still exasperated, Jasper could feel sympathy in his brother's mood now too. Jasper tried not to sigh—he was more disappointed than he wanted to admit, and he didn't even want to imagine Alice's reaction to the news. But it was better to err on the side of safety, and Jasper was convinced now that it would take at least another year or two before he could control himself enough to safely attend school. He was almost a hundred years old—waiting for another year or two shouldn't be a challenge. But he knew it would be.

Looking toward the front seat at his parents, seated close together, Jasper suppressed another sigh; Carlisle and Esme, neither of whom had ever lived as he had, seemed to possess endless reserves of patience when it came to his lack of control. Esme never complained if, during the school and work day, Jasper wandered the house aimlessly, trying and failing to keep himself occupied—unfortunately, it was easier to brood about his unruly thirst than to tame it. But Esme didn't criticize him for this; when she saw that he was having a bad day, she'd go hunting with him, they'd play board games or listen to the radio, or she'd assign him jobs to do around the house. Jasper was always grateful for such distractions, and Carlisle offered similar help on his days off.

Living in the South, Jasper had never known an immortal as old as Carlisle, and it was nice to talk to someone who could remember some of the same things he did about the last few decades of the previous century. Jasper borrowed books from Carlisle's library, accepted the gift of a car of his own so he could take trips with Alice, and listened with interest to stories about the time Carlisle had lived with the Voluturi. Both he and Esme really treated him like their son, and in return, he put them at risk by being unable to control his thirst.

Jasper was determined that it wouldn't happen again. He wouldn't kill another human, and his family wouldn't have to be displaced because of his lack of control. Alice believed that he could move beyond the creature he'd once been, the monster he'd lived as for so many years, and so did their newfound parents. For his part, Jasper still wasn't certain that he could—maybe he would never completely be free of the past, of the thirst for the human blood that had been second nature for so long. But he was determined to keep trying to overcome his sanguine history.


	68. Merciful

Hi everyone! Here's today's chapter—now that the semester's winding down, I'm thinking that I'll be able to update with two chapters every week again :) Hope you have a great week and I'll see you next Sunday! (I'm going to plan on Sunday updates again—we'll see how that actually turns out…:))

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 47 DAYS UNTIL "THE SHORT SECOND LIFE OF BREE TANNER"!!!!!

_2005_: Merciful

Alice's POV

Alice was sitting by herself on a bench outside the Phoenix hospital where Bella, still unconscious, was resting a few floors above, a frantic Edward at her side. He was so on edge already that Alice hadn't wanted to join him in Bella's room after watching the video tape that James had made—her thoughts would only add to his stress, and a quick glance into the future saw that that would be a bad thing. Edward wouldn't hurt anyone, but Alice could see that having to hear her thoughts might drive him to a breaking point that would involve the wanton destruction of the furniture in Bella's hospital room, which would be difficult to conceal and even more difficult to explain. Going back to the hotel wasn't an option either, because Jasper was there, and he'd been visibly pained when he'd felt her reaction to James' video. So Alice stayed outside the hospital, careful to sit in the shade, and tried to unravel how she felt about her past, now that she knew some of the details of her life and death.

She heard Carlisle coming long before she saw him—Alice guessed that he was trying to give her a chance to escape if she wanted privacy, but Alice stayed where she was, and a few moments later, he sat down beside her without speaking. Alice was grateful for the silence—any other member of the family, except maybe Esme, would have been visibly angry about what had happened to her as a human, would have raged against the family that had committed her to an asylum seemingly without a second thought—but Carlisle, regardless of how he felt about the contents of the video, stayed quiet, waiting for her to speak first.

"I still can't remember anything," Alice said finally. "I don't know why, but I always thought that if I found out who I'd been when I was human, I would remember that time. It's still a blank though. My family, my life…I can't remember any of it."

"James has given us a clue, if nothing else," Carlisle said quietly. "Given the year and where you were when you became aware again after the change was complete, we should be able to find out what your name was, information about your family—whatever you'd like to know, really."

Alice nodded. "Find the asylum, go through the records…" she trailed off. "It doesn't really change anything, though. I mean, now that I know something about who I was…it's created more questions than it's answered. And now I'm not so sure that I even want to know more about myself—what I discover might be even worse than what I know already."

"That's possible," Carlisle agreed. "But of course, if you don't explore your past further, you're always going to be curious."

Alice smiled slightly. "I was curious before, and my curiosity ended up being inadvertently rewarded by that monster James. Maybe I need to get out of the habit of being inquisitive."

Carlisle chuckled grimly. "Curiosity does have a way of seeming like a bad idea most of the time. I do think you should follow up on this, Alice, but there's also something to be said for the idea that you shouldn't ask a question that you don't want an answer to."

Alice frowned. "I _do_ want an answer…I'm just afraid I won't like it when I find out what it is."

Carlisle gently put an arm around her shoulders. They sat in silence for a few moments, and Alice was glad that he didn't contradict her—there was little possibility that she'd be able to appreciate whatever reason her human family had had for committing her: had she been violent? A danger to herself and those around her? Or had it been her visions alone? Had the strange gift that was an asset to her as an immortal made her appear utterly insane when she'd been human?

"It just doesn't make sense to me," Alice said miserably. "If I had visions when I was human too…I mean, if the things I predicted actually happened, why would they have locked me up?"

"They were afraid, most likely," Carlisle said, his voice sad. "James' comment about the possibility of your being burned at the stake, had you been born in an earlier century, was troubling to me, because he was right. Humans don't always have a great deal of tolerance for things they can't understand. People with gifts like yours…well, they tend to be either revered or condemned. There's very little middle ground."

Alice suppressed a shudder at a sudden thought: when Carlisle had been human, had he actually seen anyone burned at the stake? It suddenly seemed horribly likely: his father had hunted supernatural creatures, and though he hadn't ever found any, humans had been mistaken for monsters and burned instead. Unusual sorts of behavior, due either to mental illness or gifts like Alice's, had seemed like signs of an unholy possession in humans during that era, and many had died as a result of such misconceptions. But had Carlisle's father really been so zealous in his persecution of evil as to see monsters where they didn't exist, and to burn innocent people as a result?

"You know that from experience," Alice said finally, unable to directly ask Carlisle such a question about his past.

Carlisle nodded. "I do," he said quietly.

Alice sighed and stared down at her hands. "You're right. About everything, I mean," she said, smiling slightly. "I do want to find out more about my human life, even though I probably won't like whatever answers I discover. Most likely, I'll end up like the rest of you, knowing things about my human life that I wish I could forget. But I have to try to understand why…"

_Why my family abandoned me_, she thought, but suddenly, Alice didn't trust her voice enough to speak. Without a word, Carlisle hugged her gently, and after a few seconds, Alice felt herself relax. Regardless of how her human family had treated her, she had a new family now: parents, siblings, and a husband who loved her, who saw her _and_ her visions as valuable, as opposed to being something to conceal. But even now, she was curious. In spite of everything, Alice found herself still wishing that she could remember anything from her human life; she even considered the possibility that her human family had truly believed that they'd been helping her by committing her. Perhaps they'd convinced themselves that the very act which she considered abandonment was something done in her best interest. She would probably never know, of course, and she could see how that might be best. Sitting here with Carlisle, trying to imagine the sorts of things he remembered from being human, Alice understood, in spite of her persistent curiosity, how merciful it was that her own human life was a blank.

* * *

One Carlisle chapter and one Esme chapter next week! See you then, and if you get a chance to hit the little green button below in the meantime, I'd really appreciate it :)


	69. Weakness

Hi everyone! Thanks so much for all your very flattering and very kind reviews! Only one chapter this week, I'm afraid—I thought I was going to have time for two, but this past week was finals week, and it ended up being more hectic than I expected. This coming week is going to be much quieter though, so hopefully I'll have three chapters ready for next Sunday. :)

Today's chapter is from Carlisle's POV, and it takes place during "Eclipse" (ONLY 65 DAYS UNTIL THE MOVIE!!!!!) Also, since a couple people have asked, the next time I do an Alice chapter, it's going to focus on her relationship with Esme. :) Hope you have a great week and I'll see you next Sunday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of Twilight—I'm just having some fun with her characters. :)

_2006_: Weakness

Carlisle's POV

Carlisle sighed as he entered the quiet house. He'd taken part of Dr. Snow's shift, so now he was arriving home well after midnight. He took a moment to listen to the sounds of his family moving around upstairs, noting that they were all in their rooms—the questions he had for Alice about the near future would have to wait until morning now. Carlisle was always careful not to listen to movements in the house too closely after midnight—experience had taught him that after they'd retired to their rooms for the night, the other two happy couples in the family would invariably be doing what he and Esme generally did when they were alone.

Edward would be at Bella's, watching over her, so Carlisle didn't seek him out to ask about his day; Carlisle felt a twinge of guilt when he realized how relieved he was at the thought of not having to speak to anyone but Esme tonight. It had been a long day, and while driving home, he'd decided to take the entire week of the battle off—Carlisle worried that the strain of keeping up his human façade by day and practicing to kill newborns at night was beginning to show.

_At least Edward, Alice, and Bella have graduated, _he told himself. _If they'd had to keep going to school in the middle of all this, they'd be in even worse shape than I am. _The thought that they didn't have to pretend anymore (except in the presence of Bella's father) was a comforting one, but it quickly led to more troubling thoughts; after all, when the battle was over, there would still be the matter of Bella's future to discuss.

_First we all have to get through the battle_, Carlisle told himself firmly. _Then Bella can make her decision._

Carlisle was surprised to find the room he shared with Esme dark and deserted when he opened the door. Then a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders, and he felt the pressure of teeth at his throat.

Esme giggled. "Hi," she whispered playfully.

Carlisle relaxed his tense position and grinned as she kissed the spot on his neck she'd nipped at. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Jasper how you caught me with my guard down so completely."

Esme laughed, releasing his shoulders and stepping out from behind his back so they could kiss.

"And if I promise to keep it a secret, how are you going to repay me?" she asked, pulling far enough away to meet his eyes.

Carlisle smiled as he pulled her close again. "I can think of a few ways," he said quietly.

* * *

It was almost dawn before they spoke again.

"Only a few more days," Carlisle murmured finally, and then his kissed Esme's neck when he felt her shiver at his words.

"I suppose we're as ready as we're ever going to be," she whispered. "And with the wolves on our side, there might not even be any injuries."

Carlisle heard the note of uncertainty in her voice and sighed.

"It's easy to tell ourselves and each other that everything's going to be all right during the day," he mused. "But at night, things seem much more bleak."

"Poor Bella," Esme said suddenly, her voice momentarily altered by a quiet, sad chuckle. "She's sick of us trying to reassure her, because she knows perfectly well that we're as worried as she is."

"Not all of us are," Carlisle pointed out with a sigh. "Emmett's convinced that defeating an army of newborns is going to be simplicity itself, you know."

Esme sighed too, exasperated. "And so are the wolves. I wish I could tell all of them that this isn't going to be as easy as it seems. As strong as we are, the newborns are stronger. They aren't as skilled, certainly, but they're stronger. Jacob and his friends…they're so fragile by comparison. And they're just kids," she whispered sadly.

Carlisle lifted his head so he could see her face—she was obviously struggling not to cry. Wordlessly, he pulled the blanket that had been kicked to the end of the bed hours ago over their heads, creating a dark cocoon that blocked out the grey, pre-dawn light that was slowly filling the room.

"It _will_ be all right," he whispered earnestly, by which he really meant that _she_ would be all right—he was going to make sure of that. She'd be upset if he told her so, but Carlisle was determined that he would die before he'd see her hurt—of course, it worried him when he considered the fact that she probably felt the same way about him.

In an effort to ignore this disconcerting thought, Carlisle gently took her face in his hands and gazed into her eyes, willing her to believe what he was saying. "Jasper's taught everyone well," he went on, "and the wolves have faced our kind before. They were more than a match for Laurent, and given the combined forces of both our families, Victoria and her newborns shouldn't be able to hurt any of us. We'll overwhelm them quickly, and this time next week, we'll be wondering how we ever could have been so worried."

Esme smiled weakly. "That's a very convincing argument, but as much as I want to believe you, I'm not going to be able to stop worrying until the battle's over and everyone's safe."

"Neither will I, actually," Carlisle said, smiling sheepishly, and Esme laughed, sounding genuinely amused this time.

"Can we just stay under this quilt until the day of the battle?" she whispered with a grin. "I'd rather lie here next to you and try not to worry than do anything else."

Carlisle chuckled. "That's a wonderful suggestion, but I think we'll have to get up and worry again soon. Jasper and Emmett both wanted to practice sparring a bit more today, and I need to go into work for a little while to make sure that my shifts will be covered while I'm gone."

"You need a real vacation," Esme said quietly, her voice thoughtful. "Maybe this summer, after Edward and Bella's wedding…"

"You're confident she's going to accept his condition, then?" Carlisle wondered, smiling at the look of concentration that always came over her when she thought about this particular aspect of the future.

Esme smiled, and leaned over to kiss him briefly. "I am. But I could be wrong of course—I'm just thinking about what I'd do if I were in Bella's position."

"It's a little difficult for me to understand," Carlisle admitted. "I confess that I'm glad—almost excessively so—that it doesn't look like I'll have to be the one to change Bella. But it still surprised me that she wants Edward specifically to do it."

"I suppose it doesn't make much of a difference, in the sense that the outcome will be the same no matter who does it," Esme agreed. "But I'd want the same thing if I were her." She looked at Carlisle in the dimness of their makeshift cave and smiled. "You can't imagine how happy I was, when the change was over and I understood what I'd become, that the venom had come from you. In my case…well, I was happy to feel like I was connected to you somehow, long before we confessed how we felt about each other."

Carlisle chuckled. "Now that you mention it, I enjoyed that feeling too. I tried to tell myself that I was being delusional, that you couldn't possibly want to be connected to me in any way, let alone through venom, but just the same, I was happy to think that there was at least some tie between us."

They lapsed into contented silence for a few moments, but when Esme spoke again, her voice was serious.

"The thing that worries me most about what's coming is that all of us have different vulnerabilities," she said, taking one of Carlisle's hands and tracing the shapes of his fingers absently. "Emmett's weak point is his overconfidence; and if Rose sees him in trouble, or just _thinks_ that he's in danger, I can just imagine how reckless she'll get."

Carlisle nodded. "I'd say the same is true for Jasper. If he decides that Alice is at risk, he won't be able to stop himself from intervening, even if that means getting hurt himself."

Esme expression turned dark. "I'm going to ask you right now to promise me that you'll do your best to keep your own chivalrous impulses in check, Carlisle. The best thing you can do for me is to keep yourself safe while you're fighting."

"I know you can take care of yourself," Carlisle said evasively, but Esme was still frowning.

"That's not a promise," she pointed out.

Carlisle hugged her close. "I promise that I won't do anything foolish in the name of protecting you unless it's absolutely necessary," he said, "as long as you promise me the same thing in return."

"I promise," Esme said, smiling reluctantly. They kissed briefly, but both were conscious of the need to get up, to face the day—one day closer to the battle. Carlisle rolled onto his back so that Esme was against his chest, and she pushed the blanket off of them, revealing how bright the morning was already. The sunlight streaming through their bedroom window reflected off the facets of her skin, dazzling him for a moment, and then he pulled her down for another kiss.

"I'll go into work at noon," he muttered absently. Esme giggled, and then tried not to gasp when his lips and hands began to move.

"That suits me fine," she said, and for a while, they didn't talk about the battle, or all the fears that the thought of it inspired—but Carlisle could feel worry waiting at the back of his mind, waiting to gnaw at him again when he wasn't so blissfully distracted. Later, when they'd closed the curtains and were getting dressed, Carlisle glanced at Esme, brushing her hair before the bathroom mirror, and tried not to sigh. He loved her more than he'd ever been able to articulate, and after almost ninety years together, the very thought of life without Esme caused him almost physical pain.

In the last century, he'd come to understand the power of love, and he knew that the love he had for his family, and Bella, its newest member, would ensure that he'd do his best to fight. He'd come home safely, for Esme and all of his children, but when he looked at his wife, he remembered what she'd said about everyone having a different vulnerability. She was, in many ways, his greatest strength—she gave him something worth fighting for—but when he imagined the battle to come, and the possibility of losing her, Carlisle knew that the fear of that possible, unendurably terrible future, was his greatest weakness.


	70. Reply

Happy Thursday, everyone! Sorry I'm so late to update this week, but I took a trip this past weekend and didn't get back until late on Monday, and ever since, I've been busy with work stuff. Just one chapter today—I've got another one ready that I'll probably post tomorrow, but this one is pretty long, so I thought I'd post it by itself today. This chapter is actually, at long last, a sequel to Chapter 47, "Letters," and it's a look at how Carlisle might have reacted to reading the letters Esme wrote to him but never sent while she was human. Hope you've had a great week, and ONLY 54 DAYS UNTIL ECLIPSE!!!!!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight"—yours truly is just borrowing her characters—and ONLY 29 DAYS UNTIL "THE SHORT SECOND LIFE OF BREE TANNER"!!!!!

_1982_: Reply

Esme's POV

It was a cool and windy April day, and Esme was in the front garden, admiring the last of the daffodils and the tulips in their prime when she saw Carlisle's car speed out of the driveway and onto the road that led into town. Esme raised her eyebrows, surprised—where was he going in such a hurry?

"Alice?" Esme called. Alice and Jasper were lying in the grass in the backyard, reading.

"Carlisle's on his way to a medical conference," Alice called back. "The hospital was planning to send Dr. Davidson, but I guess he's sick, so Carlisle's going in his place. He has to hurry to catch his plane."

Esme hoped that her voice sounded merely curious and not disappointed—it was ridiculous to feel that she missed him already. "How long will he be gone?"

"A few days, at least," Alice said. "I think he was a little irritated that the hospital didn't call him until the last minute—that's why he didn't stop to say goodbye."

Esme frowned—she hadn't heard the phone in Carlisle's office ring, but then again, she'd been so focused on the garden all afternoon that she hadn't even heard the kids come home from school. It was strange of him not to say goodbye, but if he really was in a bad mood, then she knew from experience that he might avoid seeing anyone—Carlisle so seldom lost his temper that when he did, he seemed more troubled by his own irritation than whatever had bothered him in the first place. Still a bit worried, Esme went back to her gardening chores. For a few moments, she was distracted, but she felt calmer when she considered that Carlisle couldn't possibly be gone long, and at least he would call while he was away.

* * *

He was gone for an entire week, and he didn't call _once_. As the days passed, Esme began trying to avoid the other occupants of the house as much as she reasonably could—Edward and Jasper especially knew perfectly well how worried she was, and Esme didn't like to subject them to her bad mood, which steadily worsened as the week progressed. When she finally, _finally_ heard Carlisle's car pull into the garage, Esme was furious, and grateful that the kids had all gone to a movie together. She could have counted the number of times she'd been angry with Carlisle before on one hand, even if she'd been missing a finger or two, but as soon as she saw his face, Esme was mildly irritated with herself to find that all her anger was evaporating.

"Hi," she said, confused by his expression—he looked even more unhappy than she felt, and the tirade she'd thought she might deliver when he finally came home was forgotten. Concerned, she moved toward him.

"Carlisle, are you all right?" she asked, and then stopped, startled, when he took a step away from her. His expression, she saw now, wasn't just unhappy. He looked…guilty. Terribly so.

"Here," he said, very quietly, not meeting her eyes as he handed her an old wooden box. "I'll—I'll be in the garden, when you've finished reading."

"Reading?" Esme repeated blankly, looking at the box in her hands.

Carlisle nodded, then went back outside without another word.

Esme stared at the door as it shut behind him—she wanted to go after him, but she wondered if that would really help with whatever was troubling him. Confused as to how the box she held could possibly explain Carlisle's strange behavior, she hurried up to their bedroom and closed the door before examining it more closely. It was old, but not the sort of antique that usually interested her—for one thing, it wasn't in good condition, and even if restored, she couldn't imagine that it would be of any monetary or historical value. Curious, she opened the rusting wooden clasp and lifted the lid, and then Esme froze.

She recognized the stack of papers inside: letters, she knew without having to unfold any of them, because they were letters _she'd_ written to Carlisle. Letters that, once she'd become immortal, she'd hoped she'd never see again, knowing how they'd likely make the person they were written for feel.

_And I was right,_ Esme thought unhappily. _He read these, and now he feels guilty. I wonder who kept them all these years, and where on earth he found them—_

Esme lifted the stack of letters, tied neatly with a ribbon, and was trying to decide what to do with them—burning the troublesome things seemed rather appealing—but then she saw a second stack of notes beneath the first. She hadn't written these—Esme knew that before she even noticed how much newer the paper smelled, how the ink on them was fresh, only a few days old. Setting her own letters aside, she untied the second bundle and unfolded the letter on top:

_Dear Esme,_

_I'm so very sorry that it's taken me so long to respond to your letters. When I met you at the hospital in Columbus, you puzzled me at first. For the first time in years, I found myself aware of a human's scent, and that worried me when I thought that I might be tempted to attack you—why else would I be so attracted your scent? But then I realized that I noticed everything about you. After years of living among humans but apart from them, I'd come to think of myself as a solitary creature, and I'd honestly begun to despair of ever finding anyone to share my life with. I'd even started to fear that I might be losing my humanity—that perhaps I'd become incapable of forming the attachments I desired. But then I met you, and for the first time in centuries, I felt human again._

_You gave me hope that I could find happiness, but as soon as I realized how you made me feel, I realized that I could _only_ find happiness with you. That thought frightened me. When I thought about seeing you again after I'd left your room at the hospital, I realized that you would prove too great a temptation for me to resist. I hated the idea of taking your life away—I already loved you too much to condemn you to my fate—so as soon as I left your bedside, I went to the hospital director's office and quit my job on the spot. I left Columbus a few hours later, and I tried to forget about you, except to wish for your happiness. But I never could. I still can't, Esme. _

_Yours always,_

_Carlisle_

_Dear Esme._

_I'm very glad to hear that your leg is healing well. It might be for the best that you don't climb any more trees for a while—I worry about you constantly as it is, so please don't endanger yourself in any way that exceeds the myriad of risks that humans already encounter in everyday life. Lately, I've actually been glad that I don't sleep, because if I could, I would undoubtedly be plagued by terrible dreams of you choking, or getting ill, or drowning, or being kidnapped—my mind reels at the thought of how fragile you are, and how easily you could be taken from me forever without my knowing._

_The hospital I'm working at now is larger than the one in Columbus, which makes it easier to blend in. I didn't mention this before, but even in our brief conversation at the hospital, I realized you suspected that there was something strange about me, and the things I write to you seem only confirm that. I'm afraid that I never intend to tell you directly what I am, however—someday, I'll tell you in person, but in these letters, I'll go along with your flattering (if grossly inaccurate) theory that I'm some kind of celestial being. If you could see me at work every night, trying to avoid the hopeful looks of nurses and the curious glances of doctors who wonder why I'm not working at a more prestigious hospital, then my furtive behavior would make you think I look far more like a man with a dangerous secret than any angel._

_I hope that you're still enjoying school and that you don't really think of me as much as I think of you—the thought of you waiting for me, even now, is painful when I think of how much time will pass before we're really together again._

_Yours forever,_

_Carlisle_

_Dear Esme._

_I can't tell you how it grieves me to hear of your impending marriage. Since I know that I can't stop that day from coming, or everything that follows it, I'll tell you what I imagine our wedding would be like: we would get married very soon after I proposed, for the simple fact that we would both be tired of waiting by then. (I'm afraid that I imagine it taking me far longer than it should to propose, for the simple fact that I can't imagine you saying yes). We'd be married in a small church, and you would look dazzling in whatever you wore, but it's beyond the limits of my creativity to imagine how happy I'd be when the ceremony was completed and you'd become my wife. Whenever you're concerned in my dreams, my imagination seems to fail me. _

_I love you, Esme, and I can only hope that your dreams of the future are more satisfying than mine._

_Carlisle_

In the week he'd been gone, Carlisle had written a decade's worth of letters. Just as her notes had told him all about her life, Carlisle's told Esme about everything that had happened to him in the years they'd been apart: his time at different hospitals, the different places he'd lived, and how he'd found Edward. He responded to her notes in great detail, but the words of comfort he offered in the letters that responded to those she'd written during her years with Charles were tempered by the guilt that Carlisle obviously still felt about his role in that period of her life. In one, he wrote:

_Esme, I wish I could tell you how sorry I am. I wish that I was there with you right now so that I could steal you away from him, tend to all your injuries inside and out, and tell you how much I've loved and missed you all these years. You've said in other letters that your parents and others have told you to work harder, to be a better wife, and that you've doubted yourself, have even wondered if you might actually deserve his abuse. But Esme, you deserve nothing but love, and _he_ doesn't deserve _you_. I wish I could be there now, to tell you that he isn't going to change and to help you escape him, but I can't. Even if I live for a thousand years, I will never stop wishing that I could save you from this._

_I love you,_

_Carlisle_

All the time she was reading, Esme found herself vacillating between amusement at Carlisle's eloquence and thoughtful observations—especially when she compared any letter he'd written to the notes of her teen and twenty-something self—and deep sadness when she saw how much pain reading her letters had caused him. She'd been happy to think that they were lost forever, but now here they were, still intact half a century after her human life had ended. And there was only one person who could have discovered these letters and delivered them to the person they'd been written for: Alice, who'd obviously concocted the "medical conference" story to explain Carlisle's absence. But why had Alice given them to Carlisle at all?

Esme felt a moment's irritation: what had Alice been thinking, giving him these notes? Together, they amounted to a diary of the worst moments of her human life—how could his reading them, and his resulting self-recriminations, do anyone any good at all? Then again, Alice never acted without scanning the future to see what the possible consequences might be, so she must have given the letters to Carlisle for a reason. But what reason could there be to subject him to this?

His last letter, a response to the note she'd written shortly before jumping from the cliff, was short, but even more heartbreaking than any that had preceded it:

_Esme,_

_I can't tell you how sorry I am about your son. I wish I could have met the little boy you named for me—I would have loved him as my son too._

_I love you, and I'll see you soon,_

_Carlisle_

When Esme felt sure that she was finished crying, she carefully placed Carlisle's letters on top of her own in the old box, and placed it on the shelf in their bedroom closet. There was no danger of her forgetting what the letters said, but Esme imagined that the next time they were apart, perhaps if Carlisle actually did go to some kind of conference, she'd like to look at his letters, touch the pages that he'd touched, and trace with her fingertips all the words of love he'd written to her. With one last look at the box, Esme shut the closet and left the room, and then she went looking for Carlisle.

* * *

She found him sitting on a bench in the back garden—the day had grown sunny, but the bench was in a shady corner at the edge of the forest, and when she sat down beside him, a huge cherry tree in full bloom shielded them from the sun. Carlisle was staring at the ground, and he didn't meet her eyes when she looked at him, taking in his bleak expression and downcast eyes. Esme vaguely remembered how upset she'd been just a few hours ago, before he'd come home, but now that she'd read the letters he'd written, she understood why he hadn't called all week.

She'd spent the past few days worrying about him, and that had been unpleasant to say the least, but even worse, he's spent the week feeling guilty about what had happened to her when she'd been human. She wished he hadn't, but Carlisle was nothing if not responsible, even to the point of taking responsibility for situations that he wasn't to blame for. Esme realized that he'd felt he had to respond to her letters as a sort of atonement, but now that he had, he was feeling the futility of the gesture. Of course his letters didn't change the past, but Esme knew she was still going to treasure them because he'd written them—because he loved her. That was why he did anything, and she loved him in return, no matter how exasperating he could be when it came to the way he felt about his role in her human life.

"Thank you," she said quietly, taking his hand and kissing the space between his thumb and fingers. She could smell soap, but faint ink stains remained on his fingertips—while writing, he'd obviously broken several pens in his agitation. "I liked reading your letters—I just wish mine hadn't hurt you so badly."

Slowly, Carlisle seemed to pull himself out of the sorrow he'd probably been feeling ever since Alice had given him the letters. With a sigh, he leaned against her, and Esme smiled, relieved, when she felt his lips move against her hair, kissing her before he spoke.

"It isn't your letters so much as my imagination that's been tormenting me," he said softly. "Reading about your life with Charles…I could imagine it all so clearly. You've told me that you hate to imagine my life before I found Edward, and then you and others, but imagining the time when you were alone with him…well, I think those years were far worse than my decades alone. I was lonely, yes, but I never felt trapped by a monster."

"But those years are over now," Esme said gently, looking up at him and waiting until he met her eyes. "I don't want you to feel guilty for something you can't change. And I don't want you to ever leave like that again—if you're unhappy, tell me why, don't…"

Esme couldn't think of a kind way to say it, but the last thing she wanted was to hurt him further.

Carlisle smiled sadly. "Don't run away like a coward?" he said quietly.

"No," Esme said firmly. "Don't run away thinking that I blame you for anything that happened in my human life, because I don't. How could you think that I ever feel anything but love for you? Carlisle, you are the kindest man I've ever met, you're probably the best husband on earth, and you've given me the most wonderful afterlife anyone could ever have, to say nothing of the fact that I love you more than anything!"

Carlisle kissed the top of her head again. "Thank you, and likewise…except for the part about being a good man and husband."

Esme laughed. "Thanks again for your notes. I was happy to read responses to all my letters, but now that you've replied, please don't feel guilty about the things I wrote back then." She sighed, and frowned down at her shoes. "I still don't understand why Alice gave those letters to you."

Esme looked up when she heard Carlisle chuckle. He was smiling more comfortably at her now, and some of the pain she'd seen before had gone out of his eyes. "You did write them to me," he pointed out. "Alice saw herself finding them at the estate sale of the woman who'd been keeping them all these years, and since they had my name on them, she gave them to me. And I'm glad she did."

"Even though they've made us both miserable for the past week?" Esme wondered, leaning her head against his shoulder with a sigh.

"Yes," Carlisle said quietly. "It's true that they made me unhappy, but I'm glad I read your letters, Esme. I love you, I love learning new things about you, and I always want to help you when you're unhappy, or when you're in pain—even if I am several decades too late."

"Better late than not at all," Esme said, struggling to keep her voice even. Suddenly, she was glad that Alice had given Carlisle the letters. She'd been right when she'd worried that he'd feel guilty about their contents, but he hadn't simply responded out of guilt: he'd spent the past week replying to her letters because he loved her, and wanted to do everything he could to know her better, even if he suffered in the process.

"I love you," she whispered, lifting her face to his, and as he kissed her, Esme wound her arms around his neck—regardless of the reason he'd been away, she'd missed him terribly.

"I love you too," he said, smiling down at her. "And it's good to be home."

"Can I come with you the next time you go to a real medical conference?" Esme asked playfully. "I was imagining myself staying home and re-reading your letters, but I much prefer really being with you."

Carlisle grinned. "It's a date then," he said, and after they'd kissed for a while, Esme was glad that the shade and the sheer bulk of the cherry tree shielded them from the road in front of the house as well as the sun. They stayed outside for a long time, talking and laughing, and doing other things, and it was nearly dark before they finally went back inside.


	71. Secret

Happy Friday, everyone! I'm back at work for the summer now, so though I like my job, I'm really savoring weekends (and the chance to write fanfic :)). Here's a chapter set at the end of "Eclipse"—Jacob's line near the end is a direct quote from the end of the book, and here, I tried to provide a glimpse of why what Charlie saw at La Push after the battle might have left him a bit suspicious of Billy's behavior that day…Hope you have a great weekend, and thank you all for your wonderful reviews—they really, truly, make my day every time. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and THERE ARE ONLY 29 MORE DAYS UNTIL "THE SHORT SECOND LIFE OF BREE TANNER"!!!!!

_2006_: Secret

Charlie's POV

Jacob was cursing like mad as the Quileute boys carried him toward Billy's house, and it was obvious why: the right side of his body had been battered to a bloody, shattered pulp. Where torn skin or bruised flesh wasn't visible, sickening bits of white that could only be bone could be seen. Charlie stared, momentarily transfixed by the sight of blood and broken bones, and then he rounded on Billy.

"What the hell happened to him?" Charlie demanded.

"Crashed his motorcycle," Billy mumbled, looking stunned.

Charlie was a split second away from launching into a tirade about the dangers of motorcycles, but then he closed his mouth and kept quiet. Saying "I told you so" when Jacob looked this bad would be worse than unnecessary—it would have been cruel.

"He needs a doctor," Charlie said, wondering how long it would take an ambulance to get out to La Push—Jacob needed one as soon as possible—but then Charlie heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Right here, Charlie," Dr. Cullen said, striding up the path toward the Black's house. Walking beside him was, of all people, Sam Uley.

Charlie stared at Carlisle blankly for a second before moving aside to let the two men pass. What had happened to the Cullens not being welcome out at La Push? Had the foolish superstitions finally died out, or under the circumstances, was Billy just making an exception to the strange rule about the doctor and his family?

Billy was following Sam and Carlisle in his wheelchair, staring anxiously at Jacob, but when he looked up at Dr. Cullen, he actually smiled.

"Thanks for coming," he said, his voice thick with gratitude and relief.

Carlisle actually patted Billy's shoulder reassuringly. "He's going to be fine, Billy. It looks worse than it is."

Billy nodded halfheartedly. "Feel free to tell the kids to get out so you've got room to work."

"I'll stay with him, Billy," Sam said reassuringly, and a look passed between them that Charlie didn't really understand.

"Are you sure he doesn't need to go to the hospital?" Charlie asked, following Sam and Carlisle toward the house. For the first time, he noticed that Edward was there too, staring anxiously down at Jacob as his friends struggled to maneuver him toward the front door as gently as possible.

"At this point, I'll need to get him stabilized before I try to move him anywhere," Carlisle said, watching as Sam went to open the front door. "As it is though, I don't think his injuries are anything I can't handle out here."

"How'd you hear about this so fast anyway?" Charlie wondered, thankful but confused as to how Dr. Cullen could have gotten from the scene of the accident to La Push as fast as the Quileute kids had.

There was, Charlie thought later, a pause that lasted little more than a split second—he even wondered if the only reason he noticed that moment was because years as a cop had left him hyper-vigilant about the details of accidents. Then Dr. Cullen spoke smoothly and matter-of-factly.

"Actually, Jacob wrecked his motorcycle right in front of my car," Carlisle said. "Edward and I were on our way to go hiking, and we happened to spot Jake just as he was starting to skid out. It looked to both of us like he hit a curve too fast and slipped."

"Yeah," one of Jacob's friends chimed in—Charlie thought it was Quil, but all of Jacob's friends were tall, brawny, and short-haired anymore, so he wasn't completely sure.

"That's what happened," Sam said grimly, and Charlie nodded, but he wasn't totally convinced. In the instant before Dr. Cullen had spoken, Sam and the other kids had all looked uncertain, but now they seemed downright relieved. But why would they—they'd seen the accident too—why did they need Dr. Cullen to explain what had happened?

Just then, Charlie happened to look in Edward's direction again, and what he saw puzzled him further: Sam and the other Quileute boys were all looking at Edward now, and their expressions could only be described as…fierce. It was clear that he wasn't welcome in the house, but Charlie couldn't understand why—did the rivalry that obviously existed between Edward and Jacob over Bella really extend to Jake's friends actually _hating_ Edward? It was sort of nice that they were so loyal to their friend, but at the same time, their loyalty seemed a little over the top. It was…unnatural, really, and so was the tense atmosphere that had suddenly sprung up around the group. Even Jacob had stopped cursing and was silently watching the little drama going on above him.

Charlie wanted to tell the kids to knock it off, to let Edward come inside just as long as he didn't get in the way, but for some reason, he couldn't seem to find the breath to get the words out. More than just seeming unfriendly, for an instant, the Quileute kids surrounding Jacob seemed downright dangerous.

"I don't think there's room in there for all of us," Carlisle said, his voice very calm and quiet. "Edward, why don't you wait in the car?"

Edward stared at Carlisle, obviously surprised, and he was shaking his head, starting to refuse, when Carlisle spoke again.

"I'll be out in a bit," he promised. "If you don't mind, call Esme and tell her we'll be home late." Then he followed the Quileute boys into the house. Edward's expression seemed almost nervous, and for a strange moment, Charlie wondered if he was worried about Jacob or Carlisle, but then Edward nodded at Billy and turned to go.

"See you later, Charlie," Edward said politely, and Charlie watched him get into the black Mercedes parked on the shoulder of the road before he followed Sam and Billy inside. In the living room, the couch had been moved against the wall, a sheet had been spread out on the floor, and Jacob was lying very still, obviously trying not to move anything while Dr. Cullen examined him.

"Bet you're glad she loves Cullen instead of me today, huh Charlie?" Jacob said, wincing as Carlisle discovered another broken bone.

Charlie nodded absently, looking between Dr. Cullen and the tense boys surrounding him—apparently, it was a day of strange thoughts, because Charlie felt certain for a moment that Carlisle was outnumbered—but by who? A bunch of kids, worried about their friend? It wasn't as if they were really dangerous…but Charlie was sure that there was some secret here, one that maybe he'd prefer not to uncover. Bella had once described Sam and his friends as being a kind of cult, and though Charlie no longer suspected anything like that, it was clear that something was going on at La Push, and that the Cullens were somehow involved.

_You're imagining things,_ Charlie told himself sternly. _Just what do you think these kids are hiding?_

"Maybe you'd better wait outside, Charlie," Carlisle said gently as he gave Jacob a shot of what Charlie hoped was a painkiller. "I need to set a few bones, and that's not usually a very pretty sight."

"Actually, I'd better go home and see how Bella's doing," Charlie said--he guessed that after calling Esme, Edward would probably call Bella to tell her what had happened. "Hope you feel better soon, Jake."

Jacob didn't respond--he already looked pretty out of it from whatever Dr. Cullen had given him. Charlie nodded at Billy, who had his eyes fixed on Jacob, and then he left the house. Just as he was closing the door, Charlie thought he heard a very quiet snap, and then a strange, guttural sound, almost like a growl, filled the living room. Charlie shuddered, but he didn't go back inside to ask what had made that sound. He couldn't have explained the feeling he had just then, even to himself, but suddenly he felt certain that whatever was going on with Dr. Cullen and the Quileute kids, he'd be better off--safer even--if he wasn't in on the secret.


	72. Grief

Happy Sunday, everyone! Hopefully, I'll have another chapter or two ready in a couple days, but since this one's finished now, here it is. :) Someone reminded me that I completely missed Mother's Day, but this chapter could be considered a sort of belated Mother's Day update—it focuses on Edward's relationship with Esme shortly after Carlisle changes her, and how he struggles to understand her role in the Cullen family and in his own life. Hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for all your great reviews! Have a great week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of Twilight, and ONLY 19 DAYS UNTIL "THE SHORT SECOND LIFE OF BREE TANNER"!

_1921_: Grief

Edward's POV

When Esme first arrived in our house, I wasn't sure what to expect. The abrupt way that Carlisle had changed her, and the fact that he'd hidden his memories of her from me so carefully, suggested that there was more to their relationship than I'd first assumed: Carlisle was in love with her, that much was clear, but Esme, her thoughts and senses often confused by the changes she'd undergone, was harder to read…at first. After a few days, I was certain that she at least cared for Carlisle, but after several weeks (and due to my own efforts not to listen to her thoughts too carefully), I still wasn't certain if she returned Carlisle's feelings for her, or if she was simply grateful for his help and friendship. In those first few weeks, grief over the loss of her son dominated all her thoughts, try as she might to put a brave face on the loss she'd suffered and the strange new life that she was struggling to adjust to.

As it happened, my own thoughts were very distracted then. School, which was generally a pleasant distraction from my own troubled internal life, was rendered particularly unpleasant by a classmate whose thoughts I tried resolutely to ignore, with little success. It got so bad one day that I actually left school early, claiming to be ill before hurrying out of the building and then down the road toward home. But I felt that I was in no condition to see Carlisle and Esme, upset as I was, so as soon as I was out of town, I turned my steps toward the forest, planning to take a roundabout way home. Then I walked, and walked, and for hours, I struggled vainly to understand why I was so upset. It was nearly dark before I finally made my way toward the house, and even then, I didn't go inside. Instead, I wandered through the trees just behind our yard, and wondered how to explain myself when I finally managed to force myself through the front door.

I was always home by now, and Esme would likely be worried by my absence—every night, while Carlisle was at work, I stayed with her, and during the day, while I was at school, Carlisle stayed home with Esme. Ostensibly, this was to keep her company, but all three of us knew that it was really to keep her from being carried away by her thirst. At this time of night, I usually saw Carlisle for an hour or so before he went to work, but frankly, I wasn't sure that I could stand to see (or hear) either of them at the moment. Carlisle, if he saw me now, would try to comfort me, and I didn't have the patience for that, and though I hadn't known Esme long, I was certain that her reaction would be even worse. She would worry about me, and want to help, but I'd noticed more than once that my bad moods frightened her too—when it became too hard to reconcile her desire to comfort me and her fear of a violent outburst (a remnant of her human life—Esme knew I would never hurt her, no matter how angry I might get), she would simply leave the room, and so far, Carlisle had been left to calm both of us down. Every time this happened, he was tolerance embodied, but I could hear how he had to work to control his own temper when I inadvertently made Esme uncomfortable with a show of mine. So I stayed away, knowing that I'd probably upset them already, but afraid that if I went inside now, I would only make things worse. Eventually, the sun set, and I heard Carlisle's car pull out of the garage—his night shift would be starting in a few minutes.

I was sitting beside the small creek that ran behind our house when I heard Esme approaching. I turned, surprised that she'd ventured out by herself—as far as I knew, this was the first time she'd gone outside unescorted since the change. Her thirst, as difficult to manage as any newborn's, had made her almost deathly afraid of encountering a human and hurting them.

"Hello, Edward," Esme said awkwardly, moving forward slowly, almost cautiously, before sitting down beside me in the grass.

"Hello," I said, feeling just as uncomfortable. She knew that I'd avoided coming inside for a reason, but though she could tell something was bothering me, she wasn't sure how to approach the subject. Suddenly, I was fighting the urge to smile—for weeks now, we'd spent evenings together talking about books we liked, plays or concerts we wanted to see, or sometimes she'd simply listened to me play the piano. But all those nights had been dominated by small talk—we'd exchanged the kind of pleasantries that people rely on when forced to spend time with someone they don't know very well. Now that Esme wanted to say something important to me, she wasn't sure how to do so.

"How was school today?" she managed at last, grimacing at her own platitude.

Her expression, puckered by irritation with herself, actually made me laugh. "It was awful, actually," I said honestly, shaking my head at the memory—I could feel my smile fading as I thought of what I'd heard that day.

_Was it…thirst?_ Esme wondered. She was too embarrassed to ask me out loud, and though she was gradually becoming more comfortable around me, at the moment, she was painfully aware of being in territory that I might consider too personal for her to encroach upon. It took me a moment to understand where her thoughts were headed, but then I realized that she was actually afraid of _offending_ me by talking about my own problems with thirst.

"You know, I have yet to be offended by anything you've asked me, Esme," I said, trying not to laugh again. It seemed strange to me that she didn't appear to mind my knowing all too personal details of her life, but she was afraid of being too nosy when it came to inquiring about mine.

Esme frowned. "No, but…I know it isn't any of my business."

Now I had to repress the urge to sigh. All three of us were still uncertain as to what role Esme would play in our family. Was she supposed to be like a sister to me? Or a dear friend, which was what Esme guessed, or rather hoped, she was to Carlisle and I? Or was she supposed to be a mother to me in the same way that Carlisle had become my father? Carlisle hadn't, at least in my presence, even dared to hope for such a thing, and neither had Esme. But motherly was the only way to describe Esme—she didn't feel like anything but a mother to me, and though I couldn't quite bring myself to say so directly, I could least give her a hint about how I felt.

"I don't mind you asking me questions about myself, Esme," I said carefully. "In a way, we're family now, so you don't have to worry about saying anything too personal."

Esme didn't say anything, but my words had the desired effect: she relaxed her tense posture beside me, and drew her hands around her knees so she'd at least appear to be sitting more comfortably—for the past few days, we'd been practicing mannerisms that would make her seem more human when she could finally be out in public safely again.

"So," she said, both happy and relieved that I was comfortable talking to her, "what happened at school today?"

"Today…well, it's been going on for a few days now," I said, not really sure how to explain my problem. "There are only a few weeks left in the semester, but just last week, a new student joined my class. I didn't pay much attention to him at first—he's a small, pale boy who makes my throat burn just as badly as the rest of them do—but then I heard a bit of what he was thinking about, and since then, he's been…difficult to ignore," I said, glaring down at the creek. "Somehow, the harder I try not to listen to him, the harder to resist the urge to listen becomes. Because…we resemble each other. In terms of our history, at least."

"How do you mean?" Esme wondered.

"This boy…Frank," I said reluctantly, "he…his family died in 1918, of Spanish Influenza. Both his parents, and two sisters, died. And he doesn't understand why, when he was younger, and sicker than all of them at first, that he lived…and they didn't."

"Oh, Edward," Esme said quietly, carefully laying a hand on my arm. "That really must be awful to listen to, day after day."

"Somehow though, that's not even the worst part anymore," I said, looking up from the creek to meet her eyes. "Now he's…Frank's become quite enamored with a girl in our class," I said shaking my head. "That's what bothers me—as much as we had in common in the past, our lives are going to diverge completely now. He's still human—that means he can forget the past. He's going to age, move on from the things that he used to think would haunt him forever. Maybe he'll marry this girl, and if not her, then another, and they'll have children, grandchildren, friends…"

I looked down at the ground again, unable to endure Esme's stricken expression any longer. "He's…he's going to have a life," I whispered, knowing that if I spoke any louder my voice would break. "And I'm not. I'm going to be frozen this way forever, and because of what I've seen in Carlisle's thoughts, I'm _never_ going to be able to forget my parents' deaths. I'm never going to change, and so even though I have unlimited time ahead of me, I don't have a future. My life…isn't really a life at all. It's purgatory, limbo…and the only thing awaiting me when it's over is hell."

Esme didn't speak, but she didn't move her hand either. I could hear that she had no idea what to say to me, but she wanted to hug me. Only fear of my reaction, and the sense of embarrassment and sorrow she felt at not knowing how to help me, kept her from doing so.

"So," I said heavily. "That's what's been bothering me. And…" Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. "If it'll really make you feel better, you can hug me," I muttered in a rush.

Esme didn't say that she was the one who wanted to make me feel better, but I heard it as she embraced me. It felt strange, being held like this. My mother had been dead for three years, and Carlisle and I had never hugged—neither of us tended to show affection so overtly—so I realized with a pang that I hadn't been this close to anyone since a few days before I'd died. And to my surprise, Esme's closeness did make me feel better. She hadn't known what to say to me, but it turned out that she'd known exactly what I'd needed at that moment.

"You _do_ have a future Edward," she said quietly. "Someone as hardworking, and intelligent, and as _good_ as you are has to, no matter what you are."

If Carlisle had told me this, I would have argued the point, but Esme didn't have the myriad of reasons (none of which I took much stock in) that Carlisle had for having faith in me. She just believed, on a purely emotional level, that I was a person who deserved a happy life, and that I did have a future ahead of me.

"…thank you, Esme," I said uncertainly, my voice a whisper again. I couldn't even begin to understand where her confidence came from, but I didn't have the heart to contradict her when I wanted so badly to believe her rosy, and utterly unlikely hopes for me.

As she drew away from me, I heard something that made me start in surprise. Esme's grief, which I'd heard and assumed so far was for her son alone, was more complex than I'd thought. She was sad she'd lost her child, yes, but she was also sad being here with us now, so close and yet so far from the family she'd always wanted. Carlisle and I, Esme thought, saw her as a good friend, and though she loved us both already…she loved us in very different ways. Friendship with me made her happy, but when she thought of Carlisle, the very word 'friendship' pained her, because it would never be enough. In spite of what she really wanted, Esme was convinced that Carlisle could never see her as any more than a friend, and though she was ecstatic to see him when he came home every day, she was suffering too. She loved him, but in Esme's mind, her own future was as bleak as the picture I'd painted of my own a few moments before.

"Would you like to come inside now?" she asked, taking in my faraway expression with a nervous start of her own—she knew what I must have heard.

_Please don't tell him, Edward,_ she pleaded silently, her eyes staring miserably into mine. And at that moment, I almost told her—after all, what was the point of the two of them making themselves unhappy? They loved each other, that much was clear, and now I could see that it was only a failure of imagination on both their parts that had kept them from acting on their feelings thus far. But would she believe me? A quick look into Esme's mind told me that she wouldn't—the possibility of Carlisle loving her was too wonderful, too amazing to be believed.

"Yes, let's go in," I said, standing up and offering her my arm as we walked back toward the house. "And I won't say anything to him," I whispered.

At my side, Esme breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," she whispered, and once we were back inside, we returned to our usual routine of small talk, improved now by the knowledge that we _could_ have more meaningful conversations if we so desired. Out of respect for her feelings, I couldn't tell Carlisle what I'd heard, and out of respect for my father, I realized that it would be just as wrong to tell Esme what he felt for her. Strangely though, the grief that Esme felt now didn't bother me as much as it had before—it suddenly seemed that what she'd said about my future must be true of hers as well. She and Carlisle both were too good, too kind, not to deserve a happy life. They were already together, reunited against all odds after a decade apart, and now it seemed to me that it was only a matter of time before a better future, one in which each of them knew how the other felt, would be realized.


	73. Dancing

Happy Thursday, everyone! Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, and for those of you who have asked recently, for my take on how Carlisle and Esme finally got together, please see my other story, "I'm Always In Love." (I completed it almost a year ago and haven't updated since then, which is probably why a lot of people haven't read it :)). Thanks for reading, and I'll see you again with some new updates next Monday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," not I, and OHMYGOSH ONLY 15 DAYS UNTIL "THE SHORT SECOND LIFE OF BREE TANNER"!

_2005_: Dancing

Rosalie's POV

"Why," Rosalie muttered irritably, "does the house stink like human?"

"You know Bella's here," Emmett said, pulling her wrist into his hands to straighten her corsage. "Have I mentioned how great you look?"

Rosalie fought the urge to smile. "Just 'great'?"

Emmett pulled her close and kissed the back of her neck as they both considered their reflections in their bedroom mirror. "Great, and _amazing_, and _perfect_," Emmett said, punctuating each word with another kiss. "And I love your dress."

Rosalie smiled at her reflection, then up at Emmett. "That's better," she said, pulling him toward the door. "Later, you can tell me what you think of what I'm wearing under it."

Emmett grinned and let her pull him out into the hall. "Are you sure you want to go to the prom? We could just stay here and—"  
"We're going," Rosalie said firmly. "We're already dressed for our last night out in Forks—"

"Never mind that this is one of our only nights ever out in Forks," Emmett pointed out, still grinning.

"—and the sooner we go, the sooner we can come back," Rosalie promised, her voice a playful purr.

Emmett laughed and scooped her up in his arms, then ran downstairs to the living room, where Carlisle and Esme were sitting on the sofa together, looking at a photo album.

"Hey!" Rosalie said, swatting at Emmett's arms, but unable to keep from smiling.

"I'm just hurrying so that we can get back sooner," Emmett explained, setting her down and turning to open the front door.

"Hang on," Esme said, hopping off the couch and brandishing a camera at them. "No one's going anywhere until I get a picture."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Seriously? You must have about a thousand prom pictures of us by now, Esme," she said, shaking her head.

"There aren't quite that many," Carlisle said with a grin, handing Rosalie the photo album he and Esme had been examining. Rosalie laughed as she started flipping through it—sure enough, there were decades' worth of pictures of her and Emmett before prom, as well as photos of Alice and Jasper, and even pictures of Edward in various tuxedos, standing with his four siblings before accompanying them to various proms over the years. Rosalie frowned when she realized that this year, Edward was finally going to have a date. It was just too bad that the girl he'd chosen was such a liability to them all.

"Are you going to add a picture of Edward with Bella?" Rosalie wondered, her voice cool—normally, she preferred to ignore the troublesome human girl as entirely as possible.

"Yes," Esme said, giving Rosalie a stern look which plainly said 'be nice.' "But I'm not going to take it—Alice promised to take their picture later. Edward says that Bella doesn't seem to have realized where they're going tonight, but if she knew, she might be a bit upset, so I'm not going to do anything that might make her suspicious."

"She doesn't know?" Rosalie wondered, incredulous. "Why else would Alice be dressing her up? How stupid can she—"

"Rose," Carlisle said gently. "Don't. I know you don't like Bella, but you still need to try—"

"To be civil," Rosalie finished, already bored with insulting the girl. "Fine. I'll leave them alone tonight."

"Thank you, Rose," Esme said briskly, motioning for Emmett to move closer to the door. "All right, now both of you smile."

Rosalie smiled as the camera flashed, thinking of something. "You know, you two have been to lots of dances—do we have any pictures of that?"

"Yeah, if you get to look at our embarrassing seventies clothes, at least let us see a picture of you guys in twenties' dance outfits," Emmett demanded.

Esme sighed a rather maudlin sigh as Carlisle pulled another photo album from the shelf beside the TV and started flipping through it.

"Let's see," he said with a smile, showing the book to Esme, who laughed, before handing it to Emmett. "I think that's a fairly embarrassing photo of us at a dance."

In the picture, Carlisle and Esme were both in evening dress, standing before a painted background of what looked to be the sun setting behind a desert mesa.

"Is that a flapper dress?" Rosalie asked, looking up at Esme, amazed.

"In my defense, I only wore it once," Esme said with a smile. "The style wasn't really my taste—all I could think that night was that my mother would have killed me if she'd ever caught me out in public in such an outfit."

"What's with the background of a desert?" Emmett wondered.

"I have no idea," Carlisle said, shaking his head. "I didn't know then, and I don't know now. This was taken in 1922—Arizona and New Mexico had both been states for ten years at that point, so maybe the theme of the party was the American Southwest."

"What's the prom theme tonight?" Esme asked, and Rosalie rolled her eyes again.

"This is _Forks_, remember," she said drily. "No matter what the theme is, there's going to be crepe paper and balloons, and then that's going to just about do it for decorations."

"You guys should go to dances more often, you know?" Emmett said, grinning. "In a hundred years, we're going to be sorry if we don't have more embarrassing pictures of our parents."

"We could probably find something in Seattle," Carlisle offered, smiling as Esme took his hands and pulled him toward her.

"Or we can stay here and dance privately," she offered, laughing as he twirled her around the foyer in a slow dance. "That way, we don't have to explain how we're so practiced at dance styles that have been out of fashion for fifty years now."

"Hey, that stuff's making a comeback now though," Emmett said. "Isn't ballroom dancing a big thing again?"

Rosalie suddenly heard a pause in the activity going on upstairs—it sounded as though Alice was nearly finished with whatever she was doing to Bella. "We'd better go. See you later."

"You both look wonderful, by the way!" Esme called as they stepped outside.

"Have a great time," Carlisle said as he paused to swing Esme into a dip.

"You too," Rosalie said, and Emmett laughed as she shut the door on their parents, still waltzing around the foyer.

"I really think they have the right idea about staying home," he said, still chuckling.

"Me too," Rosalie admitted. "But we'll appreciate our privacy more if we leave and come back. Besides, we bought the tickets already."

"And like I said, you look amazing in that dress," Emmett said, opening the door of the BMW for her. "So let's go dancing."

Rosalie smiled at the thought of Carlisle and Esme inside, still waltzing around the living room. There would be other houses in other towns, other proms at other schools, but some things at least would always be the same: she would always go to the prom with Emmett, and their parents would always be silly and happy together, enjoying each other's company while they waited for their children to come home from yet another dance.


	74. Visit

Happy Tuesday, everyone! I've got just one chapter for you today, but I think I'll have two more ready by Thursday. Real quick, funny story: my Dad and his girlfriend went on vacation last week, and they did a lot of driving around Wisconsin. One of the towns they stopped in was _Ashland_, which was just delightful to me, since that's where Carlisle found Esme after she jumped off the cliff in Twilight lore. (By the way, I might have said somewhere in the past that Ashland was in Ohio—not correct. I checked Twilight Lexicon, and though Esme was _from_ Ohio, she moved to Ashland, Wisconsin before her son was born, so it was my mistake if I've said that Ashland was in Ohio in a previous chapter). So, yeah, I was really ridiculously excited when my Dad told me about Ashland—apparently there are indeed some pretty impressive cliffs overlooking Lake Superior. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of Twilight, and OHMYGOSH ONLY 10 MORE DAYS UNTIL "THE SHORT SECOND LIFE OF BREE TANNER"!

_1993_: Visit

Emmett's POV

No one noticed Emmett lurking under a large oak tree at the edge of the cemetery. It was a rainy day, and the family gathered around the open grave was mostly obscured by the large black umbrellas they held, which shielded them from the rain as well as Emmett's watchful eyes. But Emmett knew who the people were without having to see them clearly, and he was glad that he was too far away for them to notice him. Of course, if asked, he could claim to be visiting another grave, but the very sight of him might lead to awkward questions. After all, he resembled the people attending the funeral—he was related to them.

It had been strange, seeing a picture of his nephew in the newspaper—an old man, he'd been celebrated by the community in which he'd lived just weeks before his death, and after seeing an article about him, Emmett had kept track of his sister's son—a person he'd never met—for reasons he didn't really understand. And then he'd seen the obituary, and now, here he was, come to pay his respects, just as he had with other members of his human family. At first, their family plot had been small, but it had expanded over the years, and now the tombstone that bore Emmett's name was the oldest and most worn. His parents' and siblings' graves surrounded his own empty one, and today, a new headstone was being erected.

The ceremony wasn't long—Emmett waited for little over an hour before the last of the mourners left the gravesite. Then he went up to the marble tombstone and added a bouquet of his own to those already laid on the fresh earth.

"Hi," Emmett said awkwardly. "I...well, I'm your uncle. Or, I would have been if I hadn't technically died a few months before you were born."

After that, Emmett didn't really know what to say. He glanced down at the suit he was wearing and smiled, glad that Rosalie was away on a long shopping trip with Alice—if she'd seen him this morning, she would have wondered why he needed to wear a suit to go hunting with Carlisle and Esme. Thinking of his immortal parents led Emmett to glance at his human parents' grave markers. He'd attended both their funerals secretly too, and later the funerals of his siblings and their spouses. Now a nephew was gone, and Emmett wondered how much longer he would do this. Would he sneak back to his hometown to attend the funerals of all his other nieces and nephews too? Wouldn't it be better just to give up this strange custom? Visiting his family like this always made Emmett uncomfortable, because it was the only secret he kept from Rosalie. _But if she knew_, Emmett thought, _she'd be angry that I keep doing this. And she'd insist on coming with me, even though she wouldn't want to._

"Anyway," Emmett said, clearing his throat and looking down at the wet dirt again. "I'm sorry I never got to meet you." Then he stood in silence for a few moments, looking at the other bouquets left by family members. All of those people had mourned the death of this man, and someday, other people would be mourning their deaths, and someday, even if this cemetery was destroyed or abandoned, the graves left to be overgrown by weeds and eventually crumble, he would still exist.

Emmett looked up and smiled when he felt Esme's hand on his arm. "Ready to go?" she asked gently.

Emmett nodded. "Sure. It looks like the rain's almost stopped."

"Shall we go look for grizzlies before we go back then?" Carlisle offered, smiling in anticipation of Emmett's reaction.

Emmett grinned. "Hell yeah! I've still got a score to settle with the bears around here—maybe we can snack on the grandkids of the one that got me."

* * *

After they'd hunted, the three of them began to make their way north again. Emmett knew that Rosalie and Alice wouldn't be back until the following day, but he was still in a hurry to get home. He wanted to feel normal again—to play some football with Jasper and Edward and pretend that he wasn't still feeling strange about the funeral.

"Are you all right?" Esme asked, noticing how quiet he was as they ran.

Emmett shrugged and tried to explain what he didn't completely understand himself. "I get that it's weird to go to a funeral for someone I never met and actually feel sad," he said with a sigh. "I just…he was born just after I died. He was sort of like…my last link to my human family. Now I really feel like I'm the only one left, and it's…sad."

"That isn't weird at all, Emmett," Esme said quietly, and Carlisle nodded.

"No matter how we felt about our families when we were alive, Emmett, when they're gone, and we're still alive, it's hard," Carlisle said, obviously thinking of his father. Emmett glanced at Esme, who also seemed lost in thought.  
"Have you ever visited your parents since they died?" Emmett asked, suddenly curious.

Esme nodded. "They actually died not long before I did. I've been to see them once since then, and I don't really have a strong urge to go back. Maybe I would, if they'd behaved differently in the years before my death—if they'd helped me—but they didn't. I don't resent them for it, not anymore, but I wasn't especially sorry when they died." Esme smiled at Emmett then. "It seems like your nephew was a good man, though. It would have been nice, if you'd been able to get to know him."

"Yeah," Emmett said uncomfortably. "What about you, Carlisle?"

"I found out where my father was buried and visited him once, many years ago," Carlisle said quietly, taking Esme's hand as they ran. "But, I feel the same way your mother does—there's no reason for me to go back and see him again."

"It's been hard, hasn't it, Emmett?" Esme said softly. "You never say so, but when you died, you left behind a family that loved you. And in all these years, the only times it's been safe for you to see them is at funerals."

Emmett shrugged uncomfortably—feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to change anything. "It's the same for Rose—that's why I've never told her about going to family funerals like this. It makes her sad, thinking about her human family, so she tries to pretend that they just don't exist anymore."

"I suppose that's easier, in a way," Carlisle said. "But you might want to tell her someday, Emmett. She'd probably be angry at first, but in the end, she'd be glad that you'd decided to confide in her."

Emmett nodded—all these years, Carlisle, or Esme, or both of them had accompanied him to funerals like this one. He'd always been grateful to his parents, but maybe it was time that he told Rose the only secret he'd ever kept from her. "The next time there's a funeral, if I decide to go, maybe I'll tell her. But this might be the last time I come out here. Maybe I'm finally ready to say goodbye to my human life."

Because that was the problem, really—Emmett loved being a vampire, but when a member of his human family died, he couldn't help but imagine what his life would have been like if he and Rose had both been human. If they'd met and gotten married in 1937, they'd have grown children, grandchildren, maybe even great-grandchildren by now. Of course, it was also likely that one or both of them would be dead.

"Let's go home," Emmett said, speaking before Esme tried to comfort him further. He was tired of thinking about death for the day, and he could tell that Carlisle and Esme didn't mind letting the conversation drop either. Emmett knew without having to ask about the mixed emotions his parents still harbored for their own, now long-deceased human relatives.

Emmett understood that both Carlisle and Esme's respective families had never really been especially loving: their parents had taken care of them, yes, had made sure that they had enough to eat and a place to live, but providing the bare essentials had been just about the limit of their affections. Carlisle's father raised him to be a minister, and Esme's parents raised her to marry someone successful; what their children might have wanted to make of their lives had never been taken into consideration.

Now, Carlisle and Esme worked every day to show their children they loved them. Together, they'd finally built the kind of family that they'd both always dreamed of, and so for them, Emmett could see that there was little reason to revisit the past. Emmett himself felt that, after today, he might begin to share their sentiment. It really felt like his human family was finally gone—they were a part of his past he would never forget, but his immortal family, and his life as a Cullen, was what the future held. Emmett smiled at the very thought of the years and decades to come with his family, and then he raced his parents home.


	75. Mistakes

Happy Thursday! This chapter focuses on Jasper, and how his problems with controlling his thirst might sometimes just be embarrassing, as opposed to dangerous. By the way—if you request a chapter that focuses on a certain theme, it might be a while before I get to it—in honor of "Eclipse" coming out June 30th, I'm going to be doing a lot of "Eclipse" chapters in the next month, but after that, I should be able to go back to taking requests. So if you've got an idea for a chapter, let me know and I'll try to make it happen somewhere down the road. :) Hope you're having a great week, and stay tuned for another update later today! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," AND ONLY EIGHT MORE DAYS UNTIL "THE SHORT SECOND LIFE OF BREE TANNER"!

_1964_: Mistakes

Jasper's POV

After a long, and usually very thirsty day at school, sometimes the only thing that Jasper wanted was a few hours alone. Alice never seemed to mind if he went off walking on his own, but he knew that she always worried that he might encounter some unsuspecting human while he wandered the woods. As much as they hunted, Alice knew as well as Jasper did that if he happened upon a human unexpectedly when he was alone, deep in the woods, he might not be able to restrain himself.

One afternoon, just after school was over, Jasper decided to go hunting. He debated whether or not to wait for Alice, but in the end, thirst won out over common sense, and Jasper was racing through the woods in pursuit of a deer long before his wife and siblings even reached the school parking lot. As Jasper brought down the deer, he felt a surge of happiness at being away from the confusing muddle of emotions that was high school, and as he focused on the taste of warm blood filling his mouth, for the first time that day, he felt calm.

When he'd finished the deer, he began to move slowly toward home, thinking that perhaps he could find another snack on the way…and then he caught the scent of other living things, and before he could think, before he could determine just what sort of creatures they were, Jasper took off in that direction, and fell upon his new prey.

A few minutes later, Jasper surveyed the carnage surrounding him and sighed. He'd been walking within a few hundred yards of a farmhouse when he'd suddenly smelled the warm blood of something to eat, and now here he was, sitting inside a chicken coop, covered in blood and feathers. True, when his thirst had carried him away this time, it hadn't resulted in the death of a human, and that was a relief, but the wanton slaughter of farm animals was a mortifying turn of events. He was always glad, at moments like this, that Maria couldn't see him; though her amusement at his expense wouldn't have affected him as it would have when he'd been thoroughly in her thrall, it still would have been irritating. In fact, the thought of going home like this and seeing anyone, even Alice, was rather painful. Once again, he'd shown himself to be the weakest link in the family, the one that everyone needed to watch because he might kill something at the drop of a hat—

"Jasper?" a familiar voice called.

Jasper cursed—Alice must have seen this mess about to happen and told Carlisle where he'd gone. In a way though, that was a comforting thought—perhaps she'd done so privately. Maybe the rest of the family didn't know about this yet.

"...in here," Jasper said sheepishly, though Carlisle obviously knew that already.

"Alice asked me to bring you a change of clothes," Carlisle said. "I think it's safe for you to come out—I checked, and there's no car in the garage. The family must be away somewhere."

Jasper took a deep breath and pushed what was left of the rickety door open—he'd practically demolished the chicken coop in his struggle to feast on its contents.

"…thanks," Jasper said, staring at the ground and wondering if a more embarrassing situation were possible as he accepted a towel from Carlisle and wiped off his face and hands. Then Jasper slipped back inside the chicken coop to change clothes. When he came out, Carlisle took the now blood-soaked towel back without comment.

"I'm sorry," Jasper said, still staring at the ground. "I know it's only been three days since I last hunted, I just—"

"Jasper, don't worry," Carlisle said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "No one got hurt, and I already left some money inside to pay for the damages here. Just to be safe though, from now on, maybe you should go back to hunting every other day."

Jasper frowned, frustrated with himself. He'd thought that his self-control was improving, so he'd been trying to see how long he could safely go without hunting. But Carlisle was right—lapses like this were too risky. "You shouldn't have to pay for my mistakes," he muttered.

"Jasper, I honestly don't mind," Carlisle said kindly. "After all, I accidentally devoured my share of livestock in my first few years of resisting human blood. You've already improved so much—"

"I just keep thinking it's going to get easier!" Jasper burst out, frustrated. "But then it doesn't." He glared at the ground for a moment, and then asked something that had been worrying him for some time. "What if I just…can't change? What if, after feeding on humans for so long, I'm always going to be dangerous? Could this be the best I can do?"

"Jasper, I'm sure you _can_ do better, and that things _will_ get easier for you," Carlisle said firmly. "You're already well on your way."

"And why do say that?" Jasper wondered, glancing incredulously at the wreckage behind him.

"Because you killed some chickens after attending a full day of school without killing any humans," Carlisle said with a smile. "Things are hard now, Jasper, but think about it: ten years ago, a day like today would have been impossible for you."

"…the going to school without killing anyone part would have been impossible," Jasper agreed, smiling reluctantly. "The part where I killed a bunch of chickens could have happened though."

Carlisle was right of course—as he struggled to deal with his day to day problems with thirst, Jasper sometimes forgot how far he'd come in so little time. Yes, he still made mistakes, but he really was getting better—gradually, but undeniably, he was learning to manage his thirst.

"Thanks for finding me, Carlisle," Jasper said, smiling more genuinely now.

"Any time," Carlisle said, looking, to Jasper's amusement, slightly proud. _You know you belong to an odd family when your father's glad when you can get through a day having only killed a few chickens_, Jasper thought, shaking his head. They ran back to the main road together, and then Carlisle got into his car, which he'd parked on the shouldre—he'd apparently been on his way to work when Alice had intercepted him with fresh clothes for Jasper.

"Enjoy the rest of your walk, Jasper," Carlisle called as he drove away.

"Thanks again!" Jasper said, and then he ran quickly toward home—he'd enjoyed enough solitude for one day. Now it was time to go home and thank Alice for her role in cleaning up after his latest mistake.


	76. Gifted

Hi again! (It's later now :)) This chapter offers a look at the relationship between Alice and Esme, and how Alice's visions might sometimes make it difficult for her to blend in at school. Hope you enjoy, and I'll see you with a new update next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, as opposed to yours truly, is the author of "Twilight," and OHMYGOSH DID I MENTION ONLY EIGHT MORE DAYS UNTIL "THE SHORT SECOND LIFE OF BREE TANNER"!

_1976_: Gifted

Alice's POV

"I'm really sorry about this," Alice said yet again as she and Esme drove toward the school. Carlisle hadn't been able to find anyone to take over his shift at the hospital, so just Alice and Esme were on their way to the meeting that Alice's math teacher had requested with her parents.

"Alice, don't worry," Esme said soothingly. "We all have trouble blending in sometimes, and in this case, I can't exactly fault you for doing too well in a class."

"Yes you can," Alice said unhappily. "We're not supposed to be conspicuous! I know that, and then I did something careless anyway."

What had happened was that Alice had finished a math test far too quickly. She'd been distracted that day: it was fall, and after a summer of being away from school, being surrounded by humans again had exacerbated Jasper's thirst, making it even harder than usual to bear. So rather than actually working out the math problems, which wouldn't have taken long anyway, Alice looked into the future and copied down what she saw Edward writing on his test, then hurried to find Jasper. They went hunting during lunch, and for the rest of the day, Jasper was fine, but the following morning, Mr. Crosley, the math teacher, had given Alice a note requesting a meeting with her parents.

"At least Edward didn't get in trouble too," Alice muttered. He'd taken a reasonable amount of time with his test, and when he'd heard her copying him, he'd even changed the steps he took to solve the problems slightly so it wouldn't look like either of them had copied the other. Of course, the fact that they sat on opposite sides of the classroom would seem to make that impossible anyway.

"If this were a normal situation, I'd deliver some kind of lecture about how cheating is wrong," Esme said, obviously struggling not to smile. "But of course you know that already, and I suppose I can't really call this situation 'normal,' since you looked into the future to copy your brother's answers."

"Actually, I think this is a perfect example of a normal situation for our family," Alice said, smiling at Esme.

"Anyway," Esme went on, laughing. "I'm glad you did what you did. Going hunting with Jasper was probably the best thing for everyone—he felt better as a result, and every time he hunts, there's less risk of him losing control."

"I think if Mr. Crosley had to choose between my cheating on a math test or the possibility of my husband accidentally killing someone, he'd prefer the former option," Alice agreed, shaking her head at the absurdity of this situation. "But I checked to see what he wants to talk about tonight, and it turns out that he doesn't think I cheated somehow. He wants to have this meeting because now he thinks I'm some kind of math genius."

"…oh," Esme said slowly, biting her lip.

"It's not funny," Alice said, but she was still smiling.

"No," Esme said, her voice shaking a little with suppressed laughter. "It's not. We're going to…take this very seriously."

"Stop laughing, you're making me laugh," Alice giggled, and then they both sighed. They'd already reached the school—now it really was time to be serious.

* * *

Esme apologized for Carlisle's absence, and then she and Alice both listened calmly to the excited math teacher's plans for Alice: though she was only a freshman, he wanted her to try Calculus the following semester, which was usually only a senior class, and he wanted her to join the math club, in hopes that what Mr. Crosley called Alice's "obvious aptitude for mathematics" would benefit the other students.

"No one's ever finished my first exam of the semester so quickly," Mr. Crosley went on eagerly. "In just thirty minutes, Alice achieved a perfect score, Mrs. Cullen. Your daughter is obviously very gifted."

"Thank you," Esme agreed, and Alice bit her lip—she could see that Esme was struggling not to start giggling again. "I think so too."

"Would you like to give Calculus a try then, Alice?" Mr. Crosley asked.

"Sure," Alice said brightly, hoping that her expression was the right combination of humility and excitement. "If you let me have the book now, Mr. Crosley, I can start studying the material for next semester now. But, would you mind if my brother Edward joins the math club with me?"

"Not at all!" Mr. Crosley said, looking almost ecstatic. "Edward is also a very good student, Mrs. Cullen. Were he and Alice both in advanced courses at their previous school?"

"No, the middle school they attended didn't offer anything like that," Esme said with a polite smile. "But thank you for giving Alice and Edward such a great opportunity, Mr. Crosley."

Mr. Crosley looked a bit flustered, and Alice fought the urge to roll her eyes—Esme didn't realize the effect she had on most human men when she smiled at them.

"Now, taking a senior level class is going to require a lot of extra study, Alice," Mr. Crosley stammered.

"I know that, sir," Alice said politely. "I'll be sure to keep up with all my work, and if I need help, I can ask you or my parents about whatever I don't understand."

"Well," Mr. Crosley said, looking satisfied. "Thank you both for coming tonight."

So, after just a few minutes, the meeting was over, and Mr. Crosley seemed perfectly convinced that Alice was merely a gifted student, and not a psychic or anything else unusual. Neither Alice nor Esme spoke again until they were a few blocks away from the school, but when it finally began to sink in that everything was going to be all right—that she hadn't inadvertently exposed her family to unwanted scrutiny after all—Alice breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"That was too close," she murmured.

They were stopped at a red light, so Esme leaned over and gave Alice a quick hug. "Alice, don't worry about it. It's hard on all of you, having to constantly work to hide what we are, and in your case, concealing other talents on top of that. Just be sure to take a little more time on tests from now on—that way, your teacher will still think you're gifted, but he won't get too carried away with trying to challenge you either." Then she smiled. "That was a good idea, by the way—asking if Edward could join the math club too."

"At our last school, people thought it was strange that we weren't involved in any school groups," Alice said with a grin. "If at least Edward and I have an after-school activity, then we won't seem so suspicious. Besides, if I have to be in a club, he can at least suffer with me."

Esme laughed. "I'm sure he'll be happy to hear that you feel that way, and that he has four years of math club to look forward to as a result." "

"By the way," Alice said, remembering a vision she'd had that day during study hall. "I have a new stock tip for you and Carlisle: you guys should invest in something called Apple Computers."

"Apple Computers?" Esme said blankly. "So, it's a company that sells those huge machines?"

"I think they're trying to make smaller ones, that people can buy and use in their houses," Alice explained.

"Why on earth would someone want to buy a computer for their house?" Esme wondered. "I thought that the main things computers did were to count things and talk to other computers."

"Eventually, they'll be able to do lots of things though," Alice said confidently. "Trust me, if you buy stock in this now, it'll pay for college for all of us for the next few decades."

"All right," Esme said, still looking slightly skeptical. Then she smiled. "I really shouldn't doubt you, I suppose. After all, you are very gifted."

Alice laughed. "Not at math, though."  
"Since you can see the future, I think you technically have a gift for mastering every subject," Esme pointed out

Alice smiled. "In the future, I'm going to use my gift to watch my own future more carefully, so I can make sure that I don't do something stupid." _At least today things worked out okay though,_ she told herself. Though Alice loved to use her gift to help her family, sometimes it really seemed that it was best suited for keeping herself out of trouble, provided she took the time to use it.

* * *

Just so you know, Apple Computers was founded in 1976—for a while now, I've wanted to do a scene where Alice gives investment advice. :)


	77. Cooking

Happy Friday, everyone! Sorry for the late update, but I was travelling this past weekend—my grandparents just moved, and there was lots of unpacking to be done—so I got a bit behind on fanfic. :) Here's a nice long chapter though, set between "Twilight" and "New Moon," and I'll have another update ready by Monday (unless someone else I know moves :)). Have a great weekend!

Disclaimer: OHMYGOSH TONIGHT AT MIDNIGHT WE'LL GET TO READ "THE SHORT SECOND LIFE OF BREE TANNER"!

_2005_: Cooking

Bella's POV

Summer vacation had started by the time my walking cast finally came off. Carlisle removed it for me at Forks Hospital, and since we were alone in an exam room, he asked me how I was doing. His voice was casual, but by the way he looked at me, I knew what he really meant—Edward had probably told him that I'd been having bad dreams about James.

"I'm fine," I said, trying to smile reassuringly. "Honestly, until last night, I hadn't had a nightmare in weeks. I just wish Edward would stop worrying."

"He almost lost you, Bella," Carlisle reminded me gently. "He's just a little paranoid where you're concerned right now."

Suddenly, an unpleasant thought occurred to me. "He's still going hunting with you guys tomorrow, isn't he?"

Edward had let me go to the hospital alone because, he'd said that he needed to talk to Alice about the Cullens' plans for that weekend. Ever since my unpleasant time in Arizona a few months before, Edward had never gone more than a few miles out of Forks to go hunting. But finally, Alice and Jasper had managed to convince Edward that it was time to go find something better to eat than the deer he usually found in the woods around the Cullens' house.

Emmett and Rosalie were off traveling somewhere, so the plan was for the Alice, Jasper, Carlisle, Esme, and Edward to run up to Canada together and spend Saturday hunting. They'd come back on Sunday, so Edward would only be away from me for one night, and really, I wanted him to go. Edward insisted that he didn't mind hunting so close to home, and every time he found a mountain lion or some other tasty carnivore, he would tell me about it, but I was sorry that he felt too guilty about what has happened with James to ever do anything with just his family. I couldn't say that I really minded him spending almost every moment of every day and night with me, but it was ridiculous for him to feel that he could never leave my side without something terrible happening to me in his absence—thus my eagerness for him not to cancel the plans he'd made with the other Cullens.

"Don't worry, Bella," Carlisle said with a smile. "He's still coming with us. We'll make sure Edward has a good time tomorrow—you just make sure to enjoy yourself too."

I nodded and smiled half-heartedly. "Don't tell Edward, but my plan is to do chores tomorrow, then make dinner for Charlie. But if he asks, tell him I've got something really fun planned."

Carlisle chuckled. "You know, maybe you should actually do something fun—say, with some human friends. Then I won't be lying, and you might end up really having fun."

I shrugged—it was hard for me to be around humans for very long anymore. Jessica never wanted to talk about anything except Mike, and Angela…well, Angela's quiet perception worried me sometimes. The few times I'd seen her since the school year had ended, I often felt like she could tell that I was keeping some huge secret. She never came right out and asked me what was going on, but I think she noticed the way that I inevitably became preoccupied whenever I was away from Edward.

"I really do have errands to do," I said with a shrug, following Carlisle out of the exam room, happy to finally be walking normally again. "Will you thank Alice and Jasper for me? For coming up with the idea for this trip, I mean. I feel bad that he's hardly spent time with you guys lately—"

"Bella," Carlisle said quietly, lowering his voice so the people around us wouldn't hear. "We've all had decades to spend time with Edward—it makes us happy, seeing the way you two have grown so close the past few months. Don't worry about it."

Then he smiled at me and patted my shoulder in a fatherly sort of way, and I'm not sure, but I swear that a nurse standing further down the hallway gave me a jealous look.

"Have fun," I said, trying not to laugh as I waved goodbye to Carlisle, and then I practically skipped out of the hospital as I thought about the weekend to come—Edward was going to have fun with his family, I would try to have fun with Charlie, and my leg was finally, totally healed. Aside from the scar on my wrist left by James' teeth, it finally seemed as though what had happened in Phoenix was something I could put behind me. If only Edward could too.

* * *

I was at the grocery store the following morning, lost in a daydream about Edward, and the way he'd kissed me before I'd fallen asleep the night before, when I heard another shopping cart being pushed down the aisle.

"Hi, Bella," a slightly guilty voice said. I immediately jumped and turned to find Esme standing behind me. Under the store's fluorescent lights, she looked as strange and out of place as I'd ever known any of the Cullens to look when they were out in public, but maybe I was just so shocked to see a vampire in the produce aisle that she only seemed paler and more stunningly beautiful than usual.

"Esme?" I said, staring at her in confusion. "What are you—you're supposed to be in Canada," I pointed out stupidly.

"Yes, that was the plan," Esme said apologetically. "But Edward didn't feel comfortable leaving you alone today, so I volunteered to stay behind and make sure you were all right."

I was torn between being annoyed that he'd felt I'd needed a babysitter and guilty that Esme had felt the need to stay home so that Edward could go with the others.

"Bella, I'm sorry," Esme said quietly, looking genuinely unhappy. "Truth be told, we were all a little uneasy at the thought of leaving you alone, since we never did track down James' mate after the others destroyed him in Phoenix. So…here I am."

The thought of the red-headed female Victoria made me feel like my stomach had dropped down to my shoes. Suddenly, I was more grateful than irritated that Edward's adopted mother had suddenly appeared behind in the grocery store—better her than that other, vengeful vampire. "When you put it that way, I'm actually really glad to see you Esme," I said honestly.

She smiled radiantly at me, obviously relieved, but then her face fell a little bit, and her expression was almost awkward.

"Well," she said hesitantly. "Then maybe I'll just stay close to you for the rest of the day—if you don't mind," she said quickly.

I smiled at the thought of spending the day with Esme, though she might follow me unseen for part of that time—she reminded me of a quieter, less scatterbrained version of Renée, and after months of living with Charlie, the idea of hanging out with someone motherly was actually sort of appealing.

"Sure," I said. "I mean, I don't really have any big plans—I just need to shop here, go home and do laundry, do homework, then make dinner. It's sort of boring, but—"

"It sounds nice," Esme said, smiling back at me. "Besides, I need to do some shopping here too."

As I collected all the items on my grocery list and put them into the cart I was pushing, I was amused to see Esme grabbing large quantities of food too. By the time she began loading four cartons of milk into her cart, I had to ask.

"Um, what's with all the food?" I said quietly.

Esme smiled innocently at me. "Five teenagers eat a lot, Bella," she explained, and then, since the dairy aisle was deserted except for us, she murmured. "It would look strange if a family our size didn't go through this many groceries every week or so—even the Cullens aren't strange enough to go out of town to do their grocery shopping. So I buy food here, and then I take it to a food bank up in Port Angeles and drop it off."

"Oh," I said, impressed by the lengths the Cullens went to to look human. "That's a great idea, actually."

Esme shrugged. "We know from experience what makes people suspicious. This is a small town, so we've always worked not to draw undue attention to ourselves."

Of course, when Esme went to the checkout counter a few minutes later, her porcelain perfection drew plenty of attention—the bag boys practically got in a shoving match to decide who got to take Mrs. Cullen's groceries out to her car. Esme agreed to meet me at home a little later, and though I didn't see her for a couple of hours after that, as I started the laundry and began a history assignment, I had a feeling that Esme had ignored the speed limit and raced home so she could drop off the food she'd bought, and had then sped back into town, probably on foot, to keep an eye on me.

Charlie came home just as I was finishing the laundry—he'd been fishing that morning, and then he'd probably gone to the station to do some paperwork before coming back here. He immediately settled in front of the TV, and I was on my way upstairs to finish my homework when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," I said, hurrying past Charlie, who looked confused and mildly annoyed.

"I thought Edward was going out of town this weekend," he muttered.

"It's not Edward," I said, letting Esme into the house. She'd parked Carlisle's black Mercedes beside Charlie's cruiser, and she was carrying a bag of groceries. She smiled at me and followed me confidently into the living room, so I kept quiet, wondering what kind of cover story she could have for being here.  
"Hello, Charlie," Esme said cheerfully. "Carlisle took the kids camping today, so since there's no one at home, I was wondering if I could help Bella with dinner tonight."

Charlie, looking visibly startled, stood up and shook hands with Esme.

"Sure, that's…sure," he stammered. It occurred to me then that though Charlie had some serious misgivings about Edward, the rest of the Cullen family, Carlisle, Esme, and Alice especially, had him wrapped around their little fingers. "Wouldn't you rather have a night off from cooking though? All those kids probably never seem to stop eating."

"Well, cooking for just three people will be a nice change," Esme said with a smile. "Does meatloaf and mashed potatoes sound okay?"

"That sounds…great," Charlie said. Still looking a bit stunned, he went back to the TV, and I followed Esme into the kitchen.

"I really have been looking forward to this," Esme whispered as soon as we were alone. "I haven't had anyone to cook for in almost ninety years, so you're going to have to taste everything to make sure it comes out all right."

"Okay," I said, smiling at her eagerness. As I watched her move around the kitchen though, doing everything without having to look at a recipe or set the timer on the stove, it seemed impossible that she hadn't cooked in almost a century.

"It's delicious," I assured her when she asked me to taste the sauce she spread over the meat loaf for the third time. "Are you sure you never cook anymore?"

Esme laughed. "Now that you mention it, I've done plenty of baking over the years for school bake sales or events at the hospitals where Carlisle's worked. But I think this is the first time that I've gotten to see someone actually eat anything I've cooked."

"Well, everything smells great," I said, sitting down at the kitchen table. "I'll make sure to get the meatloaf recipe from you."

"Edward said you did the cooking at your mother's house too," Esme said, smiling at me. "When did you learn to cook?"

I shrugged. "When I was little, my mom and I would always cook every meal together—it was sort of like a game for us. But by the time I could read, I noticed that Renée didn't always follow all the directions in a recipe or use the right ingredients. She's a very…creative cook, even now. So by the time I was in middle school, I was doing most of the cooking, since the stuff I cooked almost always tasted good, and Renée's dishes weren't always so successful. She would always stay in the kitchen and help me though. It was a fun way for us to spend time together after school…"

I was silent for a moment. Thinking about Renée reminded me of how long it had been since I'd seen her.

"It must be hard, being so far away from her," Esme said quietly.

I sighed. "She and Phil are really happy in Florida," I said. Then I thought of Edward and smiled at Esme. "And I'm really happy in Forks."

* * *

While I set the table, Esme called Charlie for dinner. He still looked sort of nervous when he joined us in the kitchen, but as we started eating, Charlie relaxed and started raving about the food. Even with Esme pretending to eat a portion of everything, there was still plenty left over, and by the time Esme was getting ready to leave (or at least pretending too), Charlie didn't seem quite so intimidated anymore.

"Thanks again for coming, Esme," he said. "That was a great meal."

"Glad you liked it, Charlie," Esme said, smiling. "See you later, Bella."

"Bye," I called, knowing that I probably wouldn't see her later, but that she'd be watching the house tonight to make sure that no homicidal vampires broke in. Esme waved as she got into the Black Mercedes, and Charlie sighed as he watched her drive away.

"You know how I feel about Edward, Bells, but his parents are pretty much the nicest people I know."

"I think so too, Dad," I said warmly, frowning at the sky as it started to rain again. By the time I was getting ready for bed, it was pouring, and though I knew it probably wouldn't do any good—if Esme was lurking in the shadows out there somewhere, then she would already be soaked by now—I set my umbrella on the window ledge in case she wanted it. Then I turned out the light and closed my eyes, happy that Edward would be coming home in a few hours, but also that I'd gotten to know his mother a little bit better that day. I was glad to find that though Esme and I might not have much in common, cooking was something that we both could share, even if only one of us could eat. _Maybe I won't be eating human food for much longer though_, I thought hopefully, and then I fell asleep.

* * *

If you get a chance to review, that would be just wonderful :)


	78. Adults

Happy Thursday, everyone! Sorry for the late update—from now on, let's just say that I'll update once or twice a week, and I won't specify a particular day—that way, you can be pleasantly surprised by an update instead of knowing that I'll always be late for the days I specify. :) So, I've got one chapter this week, I'll have another ready for next week, and the week after that, I'm going to start posting a chapter every day for the twelve days leading up to "Eclipse!" (I'm getting chapters ready in advance for that now, but still keep your fingers crossed that I will actually be on time for a change :)).

Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ohmygosh, I LOVED "THE SHORT SECOND LIFE OF BREE TANNER"!

_2007_: Adults

Jacob's POV

It was almost the end of the school year, and I was at the Cullens' house with Quil, Embry, and Seth. We were sitting at a table in the front yard, and all of us were studying for our final exams, which wasn't easy, because it was a beautiful day, and all of us were sick of sitting and trying to care about homework when all any of us wanted was to shift and go for a run in the woods. Nessie was helping us, which sort of depressed Quil, but Embry, Seth and I were happy for any help we could get.

"Okay, so how does it go again? The square of the hypotenuse of a right triangle is equal to…what?" Seth wondered.

"The sum of the squares of the two adjacent sides," Nessie said promptly, and Seth groaned.

"Crap, that was an easy one too. Why do I have to know this stuff to succeed in the real world again?"

"Everyone has to suffer through geometry in high school," Quil muttered. "Deal with it. At least you're not doing advanced algebra yet."

"Do you guys need more snacks out there?" Esme called from the kitchen.

I slammed my biology book shut and laid my head down on it, hoping that I could absorb as much as possible through osmosis. "Yes Esme, could you please bring us something else to eat before my brain explodes?'

Nessie giggled. "How will food stop your brain from exploding?"

"Because while I'm eating, I won't be thinking about homework for a little while," I said with a sigh. "And as long as I'm not thinking about homework, I can pretend that I might not fail all my exams and be trapped in high school for another year."

Esme appeared then with a plate piled high with cookies in one hand and a six pack of Pepsi in the other—she used to try and feed us mostly healthy stuff, but now that she knows how fast our bodies burn through food, she gives us a lot of junk food too, since at least it takes us more than a few minutes to consume all the calories.

"Here," she said, "and we're having burgers for dinner. Will six each be enough?"

"Better make it seven," Embry suggested, stuffing a cookie in his mouth. "Thanks, Mrs. Cullen."

"Yeah, thank you, Mrs. Cullen," Quil said politely, grabbing a soda and starting to drink.

"Thanks Esme," Seth and I said at the same time—Quil and Embry might still call her 'Mrs. Cullen,' but Seth and I had spent so much time over at the Cullens in the past few months that Esme was just 'Esme' now. She was the person who cooked for us when we'd devoured the food in our own houses, helped us with our homework, and generally made the enmity that had existed between our two families this time last year seem ridiculous.

"So how's it going?" Esme asked.

"Um, pretty terribly, actually," Embry said, glaring down at his history book. "I'm not really good with dates, and for this one exam, we're supposed to fill out some kind of timeline of important historical events, so…yeah, that's not going to go very well."

"Better than biology," I muttered. "You know, I don't think that a person who's only human part-time should have to know everything about human biology."

"Yeah, who cares about the name of every stupid bone and muscle?" Embry said, pointing at his leg and looking at Nessie. "What's this one?"

"Femur," she said promptly, and Embry sighed.

"There has to be a way that we can sneak you into school to help us with our exams," Quil said, shaking his head at her. "Our hearing's better than normal humans'…maybe if you hid in a closet and whispered all the answers…"

Nessie rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty sure that wouldn't work—you can't hear that well. And besides, I like helping you study, but I'm not going to help you cheat."

"Esme, can you please talk your granddaughter out of having a conscience before we all get held back a grade?" I demanded.

Esme just laughed and kissed the top of Nessie's head. "Sorry, no. How about we review everything after dinner tonight instead?"

I sighed. "Honestly, I think that cheating would be a lot more effective, but we'll try it your way."

"You'll do fine, Jake," Esme said confidently. "All of you will—you've been studying so hard—"

All of us looked at each other sheepishly. "Well, this weekend we've been studying hard," Seth admitted awkwardly. "But before that…"

"We've basically been slacking off all semester, and now that's a problem," Quil muttered darkly.

"Well," Esme said bracingly. "It's better that you started studying late than not at all, I suppose." Then, I think maybe to escape the depressing atmosphere we created, she went back inside to do something to prepare for dinner, and the four of us tried to go back to studying. All of us stared at our books and pretended to read, but I know that I was only barely focused on the page in front of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I was watching the sun emerge from behind the clouds, casting long shadows across the lawn, and then it retreated again, and I wondered how much longer we had before it started raining again. I heard Esme come outside just as a car pulled into the driveway, and with a sigh, I tried to return to biology.

Carlisle waved as he drove past us toward the garage, and Esme, who'd started watering the flowerbed beside the front porch waved back. For a few seconds, I stared at the arc of water that the hose created, and then I tried to force my eyes back onto my book, but a few moments later, I found myself staring at a caterpillar that had somehow climbed onto the table—Nessie was trying to feed it a piece of a cookie. I sighed and shut my book again. I was way too distracted to focus on studying today—anyway, it was Saturday, so I still had one more day before exams. One day of really focused studying would be plenty—assuming that I wasn't as easily distracted tomorrow as I was today.

Seth sighed and gave up a few minutes later.

"It's almost dinner time anyway. I'll look over everything again later," he said, though it wasn't like I'd asked him to explain himself. Quil and Embry, looking equally dispirited, shut their books too, and we all watched Carlisle join Esme beside the flowerbed.

"You know, I try to remember how much we hated these guys a year ago, and I sort of can't anymore," Embry said thoughtfully. "I mean, if it weren't for you, Jake, there would have been a war."

"Yeah, and who knows how many of us would still be around," Embry said grimly. I felt Nessie shudder a little beside me and I squeezed her hand—neither of us wanted to think about what life would be like if the war that might have been had really happened. For my part, I would never have gotten to meet the most important person in my life, and Nessie would have never gotten to exist at all.

"But now, here we all are," I said, trying to lighten the mood. "Eating our favorite neighborhood vampires out of house and home and bugging them with homework questions."

Seth smiled hopefully. "I wonder what Esme's making aside from burgers. Maybe more of that weird salad like last time, or—"

Just then, all of us turned when we heard a shriek, and Nessie immediately started laughing. I would have too, if I'd been able to believe what I was seeing. Esme had apparently sprayed Carlisle with the hose, and now he was chasing her around the yard with the sprinkler, trying to get her back. They were both half-soaked already, and laughing like kids.

"Um," Embry said, starting to laugh himself. "How old are those guys again?"

"Yeah, isn't Carlisle like three hundred years old?" Quil said, shaking his head.

"They're both twenty-something, remember?" Seth said, laughing too. "I mean, technically."

"We should probably go inside," Nessie suggested, still giggling. "When they get like this, they always end up kissing."

"Yeah, I really don't need to see that," Embry agreed, and we all gathered up our books, fast, so that we wouldn't have to witness a vampire public display of affection. Still, I laughed along with Nessie when we glanced back and saw Esme trying to wrestle the sprinkler away from Carlisle. I didn't always appreciate the fact that I was physically an adult already, so it was sort of a relief to see two people much older than me—people who had been adults for decades—doing something so immature and fun. It was nice to think that no matter how old I got, I wouldn't necessarily have to act my age.

* * *

Thanks for reading, and if you get the chance, reviews are just delightful! :)


	79. Blessed

Happy Thursday, everyone! Here's this week's chapter, and starting tomorrow, I'm going to start a series of updates that take place during "Eclipse"—ONLY 12 MORE DAYS! Thank you so much for all of your wonderful reviews, and hope you enjoy the rest of your day :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and DID I MENTION ONLY 12 MORE DAYS UNTIL "ECLIPSE"? (I know I did—still exciting though :)).

_1945_: Blessed

Esme's POV

It was a warm day at the end of September, and Esme felt that for the first time in several years, Carlisle was completely relaxed as he lay beside her in the grass under a tree in the backyard. The sky was mostly overcast, but patches of blue were visible between the clouds, which were lit various shades of red and purple by the sinking sun. At long last, the war was over, and while the human world was breathing a sigh of relief, so too were all of the Cullens.

For the past few years, Carlisle, Emmett and Edward had all been forced to take pains to either conceal themselves or explain why they weren't fighting overseas. Carlisle at least had been able to find a job at a G.I. hospital here in Maine, but the boys, who looked just the right age to enlist, couldn't go into town for fear of attracting attention at a time when it seemed that all their peers were either soldiers or doing factory jobs in support of the war effort. At one point, Esme had considered sewing the two of them uniforms; at least then, they could pretend to be home on leave instead of having to stay home and hide, but both had insisted that they didn't mind keeping a low profile, though of course they did. Esme knew without having Edward's talent that Emmett in particular, who had been so physically strong in life and even more powerful in death, often imagined what it would be like to be on a battlefield, impervious to bullets and other weapons, able to take down enemy soldiers with his bare hands…

Of course, the atomic bomb had cooled Emmett's ardor a great deal, and everyone had been a bit unnerved ever since the two cities in Japan had been destroyed. Esme could understand that using such a horrible weapon had probably saved lives, in the sense that the bombs had ended the war, but the fact that humans had created a weapon that could destroy even her almost indestructible family scared her. But at least now life could return to some semblance of normalcy: Edward, Emmett and Rosalie could safely attend school together, Carlisle was working the night shift at the local hospital again, and Esme was adding an addition onto the house. Tonight was Carlisle's first night off since he'd started working, and for most of the afternoon, they'd simply lain together in the shade and talked.

"Dr. Slade told me yesterday that he and his wife want to have us over for dinner sometime," Carlisle said, absently winding a strand of Esme's hair around a flower he'd picked.

"Hmm," Esme said thoughtfully. "Well, that's very nice of them, but I think I'm going to be ill that night."

Carlisle's eyes widened in mock surprise. "But you almost never get sick," he said, obviously trying to look concerned instead of amused.

"Yes, but that night I'm going to be," Esme said, sliding over on the blanket that they'd spread out on the grass so their mouths were only a few inches apart. "So you're going to have to stay home and take care of me."

Carlisle chuckled, his voice suddenly low and intense. "Sounds like a plan then."

They kissed slowly, and Esme closed her eyes, faintly amazed, as she always was, that he was really kissing her, that it was Carlisle, who she'd loved more than anyone for almost as long as she could remember, winding his arm around her waist and pulling her closer—

They separated after just a few moments though, both of them conscious of the fact that Edward, Emmett and Rosalie were all inside and could probably hear them.

"Adding on to the house was a wonderful idea," Carlisle murmured, glancing at the half-built addition that Esme had constructed on the north side of the house. "We'll all be grateful to have a bit more privacy."

"Edward especially," Esme agreed. "I think he's feeling a bit smothered by the way the four of us are trying, and so frequently failing, to curb our amorous impulses."

"True," Carlisle chuckled. "I don't know how he puts up with us sometimes."

"After they've graduated this time," Esme said slowly, "we might even consider getting Emmett and Rosalie their own house."

She hadn't mentioned this idea to Carlisle before, so Esme was pleased to find that he thought it was a good one.

"You're right, we'd all have a bit more room to breathe that way," Carlisle said.

"Even though we don't technically need to breathe," Esme teased, and Carlisle kissed her, laughing.

"Right," he agreed, and Esme watched as his expression turned thoughtful. "Rosalie especially would like a house of her own."

"I can just imagine what sort of house she'll like too," Esme said, imagining something large and elegantly furnished. "I've sort of designed the addition to this house with her in mind. If she likes how things look in there, then a few years down the road, we can find them a house and decorate it in a similar style."

Carlisle smiled, but he was suddenly looking a bit sad. "You know, I was just thinking how well you and Mrs. Slade would probably get along. Dr. Slade's always telling me about her latest plans for decorating their home—you'd probably have a lot to talk about."

Esme frowned and plucked a blade of grass out of Carlisle's hair to avoid looking at his face for a moment. She knew that he felt guilty for the way she was isolated; he went to work at the hospital, Edward and the others went to school, and though they couldn't exactly befriend the humans they encountered in those places, at least they counted as acquaintances. Esme imagined for a moment being human and going to dinner parties with Carlisle, even having parties of her own. What would it be like not to have to worry about thirst, to meet people without fear of inadvertently attacking them…to even have friends?

"After the first time, it always gets easier," Esme said quietly, shifting to rest her face against Carlisle's chest while she tried to expel the appealing fantasy she'd just conjured from her mind. "We'll make an excuse to get out of this invitation, we'll use another excuse next time, and soon, they'll stop inviting us all together, and there won't be any problem."

She felt Carlisle sigh, his shirt moving slightly against her forehead. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to remind you of something that causes you pain."

Now it was Esme's turn to sigh. "I have a feeling it doesn't bother me as much as you worry it does." She pulled her head away and smiled up at him, feeling cheerful again. "In any case, it isn't as though I have a chance to be lonely very often. I see the kids at night, and I see you during the day. I think I have more than most, even without being able to go to dinner parties."

Carlisle smiled too, looking relieved. "You know, you haven't told me what you want to do for our next anniversary," he said. "It's only a few months away."

Esme laughed. "It's almost half a year away!"

"Yes, but it's never too soon to start planning for one of my favorite days of the year."

Esme stared at him, amazed that they really could have been together over twenty years—every day, there was a moment like this when she was overcome with wonder that he'd chosen her, that he loved her. No matter what Esme sometimes found herself missing in this life, Carlisle always made her feel like she had everything she really needed. Without him, immortality would have seemed like a curse, but at moments like this, when they were alone together, Esme couldn't see it as anything but a blessing.


	80. Deadline

Here at last is the first of quite a few "Eclipse" updates I'll be posting over the next few days. Just so you know, most of these are going to be fairly short, between 500 and 1000 words. In this chapter, Carlisle worries about the consequences of changing Bella. Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 11 MORE DAYS UNTIL "ECLIPSE"!

_2006_: Deadline

Carlisle's POV

On the way home from work, Carlisle took a detour and drove past the Swan house. It was well after midnight—he knew that Edward would be inside, watching over Bella as she slept, and for a moment, Carlisle was tempted to stop the car, creep up the tree beside the house, and speak with Edward. Graduation was just a few weeks away, and in spite of the promise he'd made to Bella, Carlisle was extremely uncomfortable at the thought of turning her.

As he drove toward home, the most obvious reason he had to object to the plan was what kept occurring to Carlisle: no matter what danger she was in, no matter how many enemies threatened her and how risky it was for her to stay human, Bella was still alive. She was in perfect health, aside from the minor injuries she so often incurred thanks to her less than perfect coordination, and this, more than anything else, was what bothered Carlisle when he considered how close graduation was already. The excuse he'd had with all the others—that when he'd bitten them, they'd been beyond help, on the verge of death—didn't apply here. And then there was Edward to consider.

Before Bella had entered their lives, Carlisle had thought he'd known Edward almost as well as Edward knew him. They had few if any secrets from each other, and without possessing any extrasensory talents, Carlisle had usually been able to understand what his son was thinking in any given situation. But now, Carlisle wasn't sure how Edward would feel after Bella became immortal. He couldn't live without her, could barely exist without her—that much had become perfectly clear in the past few months. But he also didn't want her to feel that immortality had been forced upon her as it had with the rest of them—Carlisle would admire Edward for as long as he existed for the way that Edward struggled to be close to Bella and succeeded without hurting her, and without succumbing to the temptation her blood posed. Carlisle understood that what Edward wanted more than anything was time: time for Bella to enjoy her humanity, for her to be sure that she was ready before she truly joined their family. But time was exactly what they didn't have, so Carlisle was prepared to keep his word. The only problem was that he wasn't sure Bella was ready—and Carlisle was sure that Edward wasn't.

How would Edward react when it was over—when the change was complete and Bella was a vampire? He'd be relieved that the three nightmarish days of pain were over for her, Carlisle was sure of that, and he would be happy that Bella was stronger and safer from harm than she'd ever been before. But he would regret that Bella had had so little time to be human, and that because she'd fallen in love with him, she'd felt her human life had to end.

Bella, on the other hand, would regret that Edward hadn't been the one to change her—this fact puzzled Carlisle, when he considered that after decades of resentment, he felt nothing at all for the vampire who'd changed him centuries ago. Nonetheless, that was the way she felt. It seemed to Carlisle that doing the right thing, the safest thing for everyone involved, meant making both Edward and Bella unhappy somehow, and that bothered Carlisle. He knew that there was nothing for it—changing Bella was, logically, the best solution to the problem that her mortality posed for all of them. But somehow, it didn't feel right, and of course, once it was done, there would be no going back.

Carlisle pulled into the garage, then sprinted the short distance to the house, arriving there in seconds—whenever he felt like this, he was always eager to see Esme. She had her doubts about Bella's future plans just like he did, but she would still try to comfort him, to convince him that he was doing the right thing.

She was in the kitchen, flipping through a cooking magazine, which made Carlisle smile.

"Before you can laugh," Esme said without looking up, "I'll just tell you that I'm looking for a new cake recipe. They're having a bake sale at the high school to raise money for new football uniforms next year, and I thought I should contribute something—people see me in town so little that they might start to wonder if you're really married at all."

"I highly doubt that," Carlisle said, catching Esme's face in his hands as she stood up and kissed him. After a moment, they separated, and though Carlisle was happy to see her, he could feel a frown begin to pull down the corners of his mouth when he thought about the difficulties he'd been mulling over on the way home. Esme took in his troubled expression in an instant.

"What's wrong?" she said quietly.

"I was just thinking about today's date," Carlisle admitted, glancing at the calendar that hung on the wall beside the fridge.

Now Esme's face fell too. "Graduation's almost here," she whispered.

"Exactly," Carlisle said heavily, pulling her close again and resting his chin on the top of her head. As they stood there silently, Carlisle sighed when he thought of how, in this case, the word "deadline" was particularly apt. In a few weeks, Bella's high school career would end. How quickly would the end of her life follow?


	81. Fleeting

Happy Saturday, everyone! Here's another Eclipse chapter—it takes place on the night when Edward and Bella go over to the Cullens' house near the beginning of the book. Thank you so much for all your great reviews, and I'll be back tomorrow with another update! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 10 MORE DAYS UNTIL "ECLIPSE"!

_2006_: Fleeting

Esme's POV

"It's so good to see you, Bella!" Esme cried happily, embracing Bella as soon as she stepped though the front door.

"You too, Esme," Bella said, smiling, and Esme grinned. It was so wonderful, and at times fairly unbelievable, that Bella could actually be comfortable, even happy around their kind. Alice and Jasper were sitting in the living room, curled up on the sofa together, but they both stood up when they heard Edward and Bella come in, and Alice danced forward to give Bella another hug.

"Is Carlisle at work?" Edward asked—Esme had just been wishing that he were able to see Bella tonight too.

"He's filling in for Dr. Snow again," Esme explained. "He had pneumonia this past winter, and every time he overexerts himself now, he needs a day or so off to recover." Turning to Bella, Esme smiled again, happy that she'd just gone shopping. "Are you hungry? Thirsty? I've got some snacks you might like."

"Sure, I could eat something," Bella said. "I made Charlie my grandma's recipe for stroganoff for dinner, and it's not really my favorite, so I didn't have much."

"How about spaghetti then?" Esme offered. "I can heat up some sauce and have it ready in a few minutes."

"Thanks, Esme," Bella said, settling onto the couch beside Edward.

"Be careful or she'll want to cook for you every night," Edward said quietly.

"Will you make some cookies too, Esme?" Alice asked. "Bella could take them home to Charlie then, and they smell nice while they're baking."

"Cookies for dessert it is," Esme said before Bella could protest. She felt pleased at the thought of cooking, though she guessed that Bella was probably just being polite when she said that she could eat. In keeping with that thought, Esme only cooked a small portion of pasta and a little sauce to go with it. While the water for the spaghetti was still boiling, Esme quickly mixed up the cookie dough, and had a batch in the over by the time that Bella's meal was ready.

"Thanks again, Esme," Bella said, taking the place that Esme had set at the dining room table.

"I don't mind if you want to eat in the living room," Esme explained, "but I thought this might be better so there won't be anyone staring at you."

Bella laughed. "Yeah, Emmett likes to do that. I think he and Jasper make bets on how long it'll take to make me blush."

"I'll go take the cookies out and let them cool," Esme said. "Maybe don't take them home tonight though—Charlie might think I'm trying to bribe him to un-ground you permanently."

"You're going to spoil him, Esme," Bella said, laughing, and later, after she'd eaten the spaghetti, Bella tested one of the cookies while watching Edward and Alice play chess.

"Wow," Bella said. "This is really good. Maybe I'll take the rest to Charlie another night—if I said you made these, he'd definitely think it's a bribe."

Esme smiled. "I supposed I should be thinking about his health too—next time I'll make something that isn't quite so sweet."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Charlie's not really into health food. He seems like one of those people who, even though he eats red meat all the time and drinks beer and maybe doesn't exercise enough, is going to live to be a hundred anyway."

Esme didn't say anything, but she could feel Jasper, who was sitting beside her on the sofa, shift uncomfortably. Esme could guess what he was thinking, and Edward and Alice were doubtless having the same thought—every vampire in the room was thinking that no matter how long Charlie lived, Bella was going to live a lot longer—long enough, if her plans for after graduation didn't change, for her father's name to be forgotten in the human world, his headstone to collapse, and his remains to turn to dust. It would be the same with every living person Bella cared about, and it hurt Esme to think how little time humans had in this world, and how fleeting Bella's time left as a human was. Even though it was what Bella wanted, it pained Esme to think that her newest child's mortal days were numbered.

Mercifully, Bella didn't notice the momentary abstraction of everyone around her—Edward was very careful to control his expression, and she was probably so used to people being unnaturally still that she hardly even noticed anymore. After Alice had forfeited, Bella was quickly and soundly defeated by Jasper, and then, since it was a school night, it was time for Edward to take Bella home.

"Thanks for coming over tonight, sweetheart," Esme said, giving Bella one more hug.

"Thank you for the food," Bella said, then nodded at Jasper. "And the game. Maybe in a few decades, I'll actually stand a chance."

Jasper shrugged and smiled. "Stranger things have happened, I suppose."

"See you at school tomorrow," Alice said cheerfully, and then Edward and Bella got into Edward's car and disappeared down the dark driveway. As Esme watched the Volvo's taillights grow smaller and smaller, she thought of how evenings like this, which were so much fun and always ended so quickly, would be over all too soon. Bella would be a part of the family in a few weeks or months from now, and Esme would be happy to see her every day, but Bella's life as it was now, fragile, dangerous to those around her, and fleeting as it was, would have to end. Yes, given their enemies it seemed necessary, but mortal life was short enough already, and for everything to end so soon, to see Bella frozen at eighteen forever, made Esme want to cry.


	82. Separation

Hi again! Here's a chapter that examines Renée's possible thoughts after Edward and Bella visit her in Florida. Lots of updates coming in the next week or so, but if you get the chance to review every now and then, it would be much appreciated. (And as always, thank you so much for your reviews of the last chapter! :)) Thanks for reading, and I'll see you tomorrow!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 9 MORE DAYS UNTIL "ECLIPSE"!

_2006_: Separation

Renée's POV

Bella and Edward were on a plane back to Washington, and Renée had just pulled her car into the garage when she started crying. She knew it was silly, and when Phil got home and found her sitting on the couch, still sniveling into a Kleenex, he was worried. But for some reason, Renée just couldn't calm down.

She supposed that it reminded her of the last time she'd dropped Bella off at the airport. That time, she'd been alone, and Renée had gone home and cried on Phil's shoulder at the thought of Bella living so far away, in a place she hated, just to make things easier for other people. Bella had always been like that—so responsible and willing to make sacrifices so her mother could be happy—and Renée had often thought that things should be the other way around. But it seemed that it was just Bella's nature to be nurturing and patient, and so Renée had often found herself living with a person who was much more like a close friend and confidant than like a daughter.

So much had happened since Bella had moved to Forks, most of it unpleasant really. Renée knew that seeing Edward arrive with Bella on Friday should have made her angry—after all, this was the boy who'd all but broken Bella's heart last year, the boy who'd turned her sweet, sensible Bella into a deeply depressed, almost catatonic shadow of her former self. But when she saw them together, the way Bella blushed when his hand brushed hers, and the way they leaned toward each other almost constantly and involuntarily made Renée smile. Regardless of the way that Bella had been devastated when the Cullens left Forks last year, she and Edward were together again now, and Renée could see that Bella was really, truly happy with Edward, and he with her. So now that they were going back home, why was she so concerned?

_It's just because she's so far away,_ Renée told herself. _And because she'll be starting college in the fall. What mom doesn't cry when their little girl is all grown up?_

But somehow, Renée knew it was more than that. Before, they'd shared almost everything with each other, but seeing Bella with Edward had shown Renée that there was now a huge part of her daughter's life that she knew almost nothing about. A boy like Edward from a family like the Cullens hardly seemed like something to worry about though—every time Renée went to the gym or talked to other teachers at school, she heard horror stories from other parents of teenage daughters about bad boyfriends, parents that left young couples alone to get into the liquor cabinet or who knew what else, and Renée was always relieved that she didn't have to worry about those things.

After all, Bella was smart enough to keep herself out of trouble, and though Renée had been tempted to ask Bella about the extent of her physical relationship with Edward, she'd restrained herself. Though it was sometimes difficult for Renée to believe, Bella was an adult, and she'd never shown any sign of being the idiot Renée herself had been at eighteen. And the one time that Renée had met Edward's father had reassured her that Edward came from a nice family where the kids didn't just do whatever they pleased. Besides, from what Bella had told her, Charlie took the idea of parental supervision to extremes, between the way he kept his eye on Edward whenever he came over and the curfew that indicated what time Edward needed to leave the house every night—at least Chief Swan had eased up enough to let Bella and Edward visit this weekend. No, it wasn't Edward exactly that worried Renée, or his family, or Charlie's parenting skills, which sounded no worse than her own. There was something else.

It was just a feeling, but Renée somehow sensed that a bigger separation than this one was coming. If Bella really went to college in Alaska, then would they be able to see each other more than once or twice a year? Probably not, but still, that would be better than nothing. No, when Bella and Edward had disappeared into the crowd at the airport earlier that day, Renée had had the strangest feeling that someday soon, Bella was going to disappear forever.

_You need to stop reading science fiction,_ Renée told herself sternly. Then, still wiping tears from her eyes and trying not to think about a future when she would be separated from Bella, Renée went into the kitchen to help Phil with dinner.


	83. Boundary

Happy Monday, everyone! This chapter focuses on the part in Eclipse when Emmett crosses the boundary line between territories while the Cullens and the wolf pack are hunting Victoria, and how a fight almost breaks out as a result. (I feel like Emmett would be really confident about catching Victoria at this point, before anyone knew anything about the newborn army).

Quick note-"Eternity" has been nominated for a "Bring Me To Life" award, so if you get the chance to visit their website and vote for "Eternity" (I can't vote myself), then that would be awesome! Here's the website: .

Hope your week got off to a good start, and I'll see you again tomorrow. Also, as always, thank you so much for your wonderful reviews!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 8 MORE DAYS UNTIL ECLIPSE!

_2006_: Boundary

Emmett's POV

The moment that it happened, Emmett was so focused on the hunt that he didn't even notice the reactions of the wolves a few yards away. Emmett had almost collided with one of them, but when he realized what had happened, he quickly moved back across the boundary line—not quickly enough apparently. Suddenly, there was a set of teeth flashing in his face, and Rosalie was beside him, snarling murderously. Emmett fought the urge to push her back as two other wolves stopped beside the first and crouched to spring—Emmett didn't want her anywhere near the wolves, but if he was going to fight them, and protect Rosalie if necessary, he needed to focus on the opponents in front of him first before he could—

"Emmett, Rosalie, stop!" Carlisle said, a seldom-heard note of command in his voice. "Sam, Jacob, wait, please!"

_How can he even tell those fleabags apart?_ Emmett wondered, and then he felt a sudden wave of calm wash over him.

"It was an accident," Carlisle was saying persuasively. "Let's resume the hunt, and this time, everyone will stay on their respective sides of the line between territories."

But by the time that everyone was running again, Victoria was too far ahead of them to catch. Emmett had never seen anyone dodge and weave as accurately as she did, keeping so close to the boundary line that it seemed like it was visible to her, and just a few minutes after the hunt had been interrupted, it was over, and she was gone.

"Dammit," Emmett muttered angrily as they started toward home. "She was right there—stupid mutts!"

"Emmett," Carlisle said firmly. "Let's try to keep the name-calling to a minimum, shall we? They're our allies—"

"Until one side or the other catches Victoria," Jasper said quietly. "After that, how long do you think this uneasy truce is going to last, Carlisle?"

"Are you all right, Emmett?" Esme whispered as they ran, looking back at him. Emmett was surprised to see how shaken she looked, and he smiled reassuringly as Carlisle moved closer and took her hand.

"He never even touched me, Esme," Emmett said, pounding his chest and grinning. "See? Not even a scratch."

"Lucky for him," Rosalie hissed.

"Jasper," Carlisle said quietly. "We've been able to keep this truce for decades. I agree that once we break the treaty with Bella, the pack will probably move against us."

Jasper rolled his eyes and glanced at Emmett, who shook his head. Carlisle was way too nice sometimes—there was no "probably" about the wolves attacking them as soon as they found out Bella was a vampire.

"But until then," Carlisle said, not missing his sons' expressions of skepticism. "We need to treat them as allies. Both our families want to catch Victoria before she can hurt anyone else—Bella especially."

Rosalie snorted, but otherwise, she didn't comment on what Carlisle had said, which showed unusual patience for Rose.

"At least she wasn't here," Esme murmured, and Emmett saw Carlisle squeeze her hand. They both looked worried, which almost made Emmett want to laugh—what was there to worry about? One vampire against the six of them, not to mention a bunch of bad-tempered overgrown dogs were hardly bad odds for their family. And if Edward stuck around for the hunt next time…Emmett grinned at the thought. The redhead would have a hard time tricking them if Edward was around to read her mind.

"You guys worry too much," Emmett said, shaking his head again.

Esme smiled thinly. "We're parents, Emmett. That's our job."

"They lost her," Alice said suddenly, and everyone started at the sound of her voice. She'd been quiet for some time now, struggling to see past the blindness that the wolves' presence in any possible future caused her. "I can see her moving north. Apparently, no one's going to catch Victoria today," she said with a sigh.

"Next time," Jasper said firmly. "If Edward goes after her with us—"

"There's no way she'll escape," Emmett finished. But in spite of their numbers, and the advantages that their combined strength and talents gave them, Carlisle and Esme were still holding hands, still looking worried. As everyone ran toward home, Emmett tried to imagine what logical reason there was to be concerned. _She's outnumbered seven to one,_ Emmett thought, still watching his parents. _And that's not counting the pack of mutts. Those two need to relax. The next time Victoria shows up here, catching her will be easy._


	84. Advice

Hi again! This chapter takes place right after Rosalie tells Bella about how she became a vampire, and why she shouldn't choose the same life. Real quick, yesterday I mentioned that "Eternity" has been nomiated for a Bring Me to Life Award-the Passionate Woman Award, specifically-so if you go to my profile, there is now a link to the website where you can vote. Thanks!

Thank you so much for all your excellent reviews, and I'll be back with another update tomorrow. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY ONE MORE WEEK UNTIL "ECLIPSE"!

_2006_: Advice

Rosalie's POV

Before going back downstairs, Rosalie waited until she was sure that Bella was asleep. She listened at Edward's door until the quiet sounds of breathing from within slowed and fell into a rhythm that could only mean that Bella had dozed off, and then she returned to the living room to face Alice and Esme.

"I don't see her changing her mind, you know," Alice said, her voice cool.

Rosalie shrugged and adopted an equally chilly tone. "That doesn't surprise me. I just thought Bella should have a better idea of what she might regret later. It isn't as though you've ever tried to point out the drawbacks of immortality to your new sister."

"Alice, Rose," Esme said, a note of warning in her voice as Alice opened her mouth to retaliate. "Enough. You both want different things for Bella, but ultimately, it's her choice. There's no point in the two of you arguing about it."

Rosalie frowned, but she couldn't exactly disagree with that statement. Sighing, she forced herself to look at Alice. "I'm sorry, Alice. It was rude of me to say you've never tried to warn Bella. I know you have."

Alice smiled slightly, and Rosalie could see that she'd already been forgiven. "True, but I suppose it _was_ good of you to tell her about your regrets. No matter what she decides, she was probably glad to understand you better, wasn't she?"

"Yes, she was happy to understand why I don't like her," Rosalie said, smiling a bit herself now.

Esme sighed. "Rosalie, didn't talking to Bella tonight help you to understand her a little better too?"

Rosalie shrugged. "I understand the position she's in, but I still don't agree with the choice she's making. She's only eighteen Esme! Did you know what you wanted the rest of your life to be like when you were eighteen?"

"I thought I did," Esme said. "And so did you Rose—many people do. I don't want Bella to regret her decision later, but no matter what she decides, I don't think we can stop her. Alice?"

"She's very determined," Alice confirmed. "Since we came back from Italy, her future's been fairly clear. I don't know when it's going to happen exactly, but it certainly looks like it will."

Rosalie sighed. "Well, then I guess the best I can hope for now is that she won't have the same regrets I do about this life. It isn't as though her parents will get to see her again after she's changed anyway, so they'll never get to wonder why no grandchildren ever appear."

Esme's face fell when she thought about this, and Rosalie instantly regretted saying it. "I know that we'll all be a lot safer once Bella's really one of us, but still…for the sake of Charlie and Renée, it would be nice if she could wait a few more months—"

"That would only put them in more danger, Esme," Alice said quietly. "The longer Bella stays human, the riskier things get."

"I still say that Edward should at least have to be the one to turn her," Rosalie muttered, and Alice shot her a glare—they'd had this conversation before, and it irritated Rosalie that she seemed to be the only one willing to bring the matter up.

"Carlisle doesn't want to do it," Rosalie went on pointedly. "And he shouldn't have to. Edward's the one who wants—"

"Carlisle promised, Rosalie," Esme said, her voice quiet and sad now. "I know he doesn't want to, but he will if it comes to that."

Rosalie cringed again slightly. She hated upsetting Esme like this, even if it was over something that needed to be said. "Edward might change his mind," Rosalie said half-heartedly, looking to Alice for support. "Maybe he'll agree to do it if Bella asks him to after graduation. He hates to deny her anything. Maybe if she—"

"Actually," Alice said suddenly, her eyes focused on the possible futures invisible to the other two, "I can't tell who's going to do it. In the end, it might be Edward after all."

"Are you sure, Alice?" Esme demanded, suddenly looking hopeful. "I mean, are you sure that you aren't sure about who changes her?"

"I'm sure," Alice said slowly, shaking her head. "It's really unclear. I mean, I can see Bella as a vampire sometime in the near future, but what comes before that is really hazy." Then she smiled eagerly. "Maybe there's going to be a wedding after all!"

"I thought getting married was a deal-breaker for Bella," Rosalie said skeptically. "And if she really went through with it, would Edward actually change her?"

"He promised," Alice said confidently. "So I suppose it's possible…"

"I hope so," Esme murmured absently, obviously still thinking about Carlisle—Rosalie could imagine how relieved they both would be if he didn't have to be the one to stop Bella's heart. Of course, Edward would feel guilty if he had to do it, but Rosalie privately felt that Edward deserved a little guilt at this point. It wasn't as though he'd chosen to fall in love with Bella, but still, the decision to make her a part of their family had been hard on everyone, and things were only going to get harder…for Bella especially. _I wish that she would listen to me_, Rosalie thought grimly, but she knew that what she wanted for Bella was essentially a moot point. Bella had already made her choice, and Rosalie knew that her advice, however well-intended it had been, was going to be ignored.


	85. Temper

Happy Wednesday, everyone! Can you believe that this time next week, "Eclipse" will be in theaters? SO EXCITING! This chapter takes place after Bella breaks a knuckle punching Jacob in the face, and it describes Carlisle's possible thoughts on Bella's future as a vampire. Thank you so much for all your great reviews, and for voting for "Eternity" in the "Bring Me To Life" Award category it's been nominated for (you can follow the link in my profile if you'd like to vote :)) and I'll see you again tomorrow!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY SIX MORE DAYS UNTIL "ECLIPSE"!

_2006_: Temper

Carlisle's POV

As Bella sat across from him at the kitchen table, Carlisle had to struggle not to look up and examine her face. She and Edward had arrived moments ago, Bella cradling her injured hand against her body, and when Carlisle had thought the question, _what happened?, _Edward had only shaken his head, looking subdued. Bella, for her part, didn't seem particularly worried about her hand—as Carlisle examined her knuckles and found the broken one, she seemed distracted by something else altogether.

"Sorry," Carlisle said when Bella winced slightly. "It looks like you've got a hairline fracture right here."

"Do I need a cast?" Bella wondered, looking more irritated than concerned by the thought.

"Not if you wear a brace for a while," Carlisle said, smiling. "Just don't take it off."

"I won't," Bella promised, staring down at the table. She seemed to be avoiding Edward's eyes.

"Do you mind if I ask how this happened?" Carlisle said, noting with concern Edward's sudden worried look as he waited for Bella's reply.

After a moment, Bella sighed and raised her eyes. "I punched Jacob Black in the face."

Carlisle blinked, then went back to looking at her hand, forcing himself not to smile. "I see."

"It's not funny," Edward muttered, obviously hearing Carlisle's thoughts.

"Of course not," Carlisle said, but he smiled at Bella and winked, and she smiled back slightly.

"Actually, it's a little bit funny," she said grudgingly. "Or it would have been if he'd even felt it when I hit him."

Carlisle shook his head as he stood up and went to find the right size brace. "As hard as you must have hit him to break a knuckle, that's difficult to believe."

Bella sighed again. "I hit him really hard, but Jacob's built like a brick wall these days." Then she scowled. "At least his head seems to be full of bricks."

Edward shot him a look that plainly said, _please don't ask her anything else_, so Carlisle stopped himself from wondering aloud why she'd hit Jacob Black in the first place. It was difficult to imagine Bella getting angry enough to hurt anyone, let alone a friend…unless Jacob had said or done something that had pushed his relationship with Bella too far. Maybe he'd said something hurtful about her plans for the future, or he'd tried to talk her out of her intentions for after graduation. Carlisle could imagine that perhaps a conversation along those lines had gotten too heated, and Bella had lost her temper.

Though he didn't approve of Jasper and Emmett's wager, he could understand why they'd made such a bet: though she was quiet, polite, and sometimes selfless to a fault, Bella was a passionate person too. In Carlisle's experience, this could either make things easier or harder for newborns. In Edward's case, his passionate (though one might also say stubborn) nature had helped him to resist human blood—he'd been determined not to kill anyone, and so his early years had been relatively free from bloodshed. Rosalie too had found her strong personality to be an asset in resisting her thirst, and after taking her revenge against Royce King and his friends, she'd never killed anyone. But Esme and Emmett both had strong personalities too, and in spite of their commitment to living without human blood, they'd slipped. Their mistakes had had little to do with their respective temperaments, however: when they'd accidently killed humans, they'd simply been thirsty, not angry.

Of course, newborns were by definition temperamental at times. But Carlisle found himself thinking, not just because Edward was doubtless listening to his thoughts while he fitted the brace onto Bella's hand, that no matter how emotional a newborn could be—no matter how Bella's temper might try to carry her away after she'd been turned—in her case, it wouldn't be a problem. When Carlisle had changed the others, their family had been smaller, and so it had been more of a challenge to supervise or subdue individual members. Given his size, Emmett had been a nightmare to control at times in his early years, never mind that there were four other vampires in the family—even Rose hadn't always been able to talk him out of taking off at the scent of human the first few months after he'd been turned. But now there were seven of them. Bella would be powerful when she was changed, yes, but it seemed unlikely that whatever temper she possessed would ever be able to completely carry her away—how could such a thing be possible when Alice would be able to see Bella attacking someone, or when there was Jasper to calm her down, if necessary?

Carlisle saw Edward smile slightly at his attempts to dismiss the premise of Jasper and Emmett's bet, and though he'd hoped to comfort Edward, Carlisle too felt reassured when he considered his own arguments. As a family, they were going to make sure that Bella wasn't a danger to humans. They would all help her learn to control herself, and a few years from now, she would no longer be ruled by the strong impulses and emotions that newborns often fell prey to. She would never have to know the guilt that the others felt when they considered the lives they'd ended—Carlisle knew that Edward would make sure of that.

"All done," Carlisle said, watching Bella gently move her hand and examine the brace. "No more punching werewolves, all right?"

"Thanks for fixing my hand," Bella said, frowning again. "But I can't promise I won't try to do anything rash to pushy werewolves after I'm a vampire."

"We'll go to Antarctica," Edward promised. "That way, you won't have to use the crazy newborn defense to explain why you broke Jacob Black's face."

"Penguins," Bella said thoughtfully, "seem sort of unappetizing right now, when I compare them to the thought of actually breaking his stupid wolfy face."

Carlisle sighed and glanced at Edward, who smiled fondly. Yes, Bella certainly had a temper. What role it would play in her future immortal life remained to be seen.


	86. Risk

Happy Thursday, everyone! This chapter focuses on Jasper's thoughts the day that Edward and Bella skip school and hear about his history, as well as the implications of the newborn army stalking Seattle. Thank you so much for your reviews, and I'll be back tomorrow :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 5 MORE DAYS!

_2006_: Risk

Jasper's POV

It had been strange, telling Bella about his upbringing. Standing in the living room, surrounded by his family, Alice at his side, those years of carnage and endless thirst seemed so far away that, if he hadn't had a lamentably perfect memory of those days, Jasper would have been tempted to pretend that they had never happened. His years in the North had made the life he'd lived in the South seem somehow implausible; he knew that even now, immortals lived the way he had for decades, and yet after all these years of self-restraint, it seemed more like a bad dream than a reality that could come to harm anyone he cared about. But now there was an army of newborns hunting in Seattle, and their indiscreet feeding habits had doubtless already attracted the attention of the Volturi. To prevent the guard from coming to Seattle themselves, the newborns needed to be destroyed as quickly as possible. Doing so was, strategically, the safest thing to do, in that it would keep the Volturi away. But such a move would mean risking his family…risking Alice.

Jasper was standing outside now, still trying to process the ramifications of Carlisle's conversation with Tanya. Unless he could contact Peter and Charlotte, or Maria, if that was absolutely necessary, then they were going to have to do this alone. Considering how vital secrecy would be when hunting in Seattle, this was a chilling thought, because the newborns weren't going to be nearly as careful. Jasper wasn't certain how long it would take them to catch all the newborns, and how safely such a task could be managed, even with Alice to keep track of how many there were. And there was still the question of who had created this army, and for what purpose.

"Jasper?" Carlisle called, joining him on the back porch. Jasper turned and saw that, thankfully, everyone else was still in the living room.

"This is bad, Carlisle," Jasper said, speaking too quietly for anyone inside to hear. "If all of us go to Seattle, I don't know if all us will come back."

Carlisle winced at the thought of that, but he nodded. "I agree. I'll try to get in touch with a few friends, but even if we can find a few who are willing to help us, the odds still aren't going to be good. What do you suggest we do?"

"I don't know," Jasper muttered, frustrated when he glanced through the glass wall on the south side of the house and caught sight of Alice. "I can show everyone the best way to fight newborns, but if we really end up out-numbered three to one…"

"Their numbers might go down," Carlisle said bracingly, but he looked as frantic as Jasper felt. "Maybe the odds won't be as bad as we fear. And if we work together, pick them off a few at a time..."

"But then we risk the Volturi getting involved," Jasper pointed out, beginning to pace back and forth across the porch. "Of course, the idea of letting them take care of things is tempting at this point. If you changed Bella now—"

"No, Jasper," Carlisle said firmly. "That's not an option."

"We wouldn't need to go to Seattle then," Jasper reasoned. "In three days, all of us would be safe."

"We might be," Carlisle conceded. "But Seattle would still be overrun with newborns, and humans would keep dying. That's bad enough, but having the Volturi in the area wouldn't be desirable either."

"This is _their_ job, Carlisle," Jasper said, trying to control his irritation. "Not ours. Besides, if they do come to see us and Bella's a vampire, then there's no problem."

"Not if the town of Forks is in a frenzy because she's disappeared," Carlisle said, shaking his head. "If I changed Bella now, Jasper, there would be no explanation we could offer Charlie for her absence. The fact that he's a police officer would complicate our attempts to conceal her considerably, and the Volturi would be provoked by his efforts to find her and our poor judgment in changing her at such an inopportune time."

Jasper cursed quietly. Carlisle was right of course—if Bella vanished just days before graduation, the humans in her life would inevitably cause a stir that the Volturi would frown upon, and drawing the ire of the Volturi worried Jasper more than twenty or so bloodthirsty newborns. "You're right. We can't take that risk."

Carlisle sighed. "I wish there _was_ a palatable way to solve this problem, Jasper," he said quietly. "Being forced to kill a bunch of children because someone changed them and then set them lose without explaining how our kind are supposed to live sickens me, but I don't see that we have any choice in the matter now."

"We'll do it then," Jasper said, feeling resigned. "I'll teach everyone what I know, and then we'll go from there." Though the thought of losing Alice made Jasper feel almost physically ill, he agreed that fighting was the only thing they could do now. Looking at Carlisle, Jasper could see that he was just as terrified at the thought of losing Esme, or any of his children, but there was no other way to keep their family safe. In Jasper's experience, fighting a battle like the one that was coming was quick, brutal work in which the outcome between two groups was decided in minutes. Before, Jasper had always been on the winning side of such skirmishes, and maybe he would be this time, but if he lost Alice—if any member of the Cullen family was lost—what victory could possibly be worth that?

If nothing else, Jasper took some comfort in the idea that for the first time, he would be fighting for something he wanted to protect: he wouldn't be fighting for Maria's territories, or Maria herself—he would be fighting to keep his family safe. If it meant doing that, then there was no risk Jasper wouldn't take.


	87. Unknown

Hi everyone—yay for Friday! This chapter takes place during the second practice in the field, when Edward and Bella arrive to find the Cullens getting ready for another lesson in combat against newborns; I always imagine Alice being rather grumpy during this period, given her inability to see the outcome of the battle, so here's a short chapter about that. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 4 MORE DAYS UNTIL "ECLIPSE"!

_2006_: Unknown

Alice's POV

It was almost time for another training session with Jasper, and tonight, everyone was calmer than they'd been the night before. The fact that only three wolves were present certainly helped to improve the atmosphere, as did Jasper's increased confidence in their chances of winning now that the pack was on their side. His self-assurance had buoyed everyone up, and Alice found herself smiling in spite of herself as she sat and talked with Rosalie.

"I wish I could see what's going to happen," she said wistfully, wishing that she actually looked as irritated as she felt, because Rosalie just laughed.

"It's not like you really need to see the future to know what's going to happen," she pointed out. "We'll get half, the wolves will get the other half, and the fighting will be over in no time."

Alice glanced over at Carlisle and Esme as they spoke quietly a few feet away, their hands clasped and their heads bent toward each other. "Look at those two though. I'm not the only one who doesn't completely share Jasper's confidence."

"But he's the expert at this stuff," Rosalie said, nodding at Emmett and Jasper and smiling at her husband. "Besides, from here it looks like we've got things under control."

In spite of the feeling of calm assurance that Jasper was broadcasting across the field, Alice scowled and stood up. "If you need me, I'm going to go be worried with Carlisle and Esme for a while."

"Have fun," Rosalie muttered absently, not taking her eyes off Emmett.

"Hi," Alice said, walking over to join Carlisle and Esme. "Edward and Bella just got here."

Esme glanced over at the pair where they stood at the edge of the group. "Bella's here again? She's barely slept in days..."

"Well, I couldn't tell that she was coming," Alice said irritably, glaring at the three wolves sitting a few yards away. "Now, if the flea circus would just leave—"

"Alice," Carlisle said gently. "You know they have to watch so that the pack knows what to do when the fighting starts."

"I just hate not being able to see _anything_!" Alice burst out, frustrated. "Why I can't I see past those stupid dogs?"

"Oh Alice," Esme said, putting a soothing hand on her shoulder. "I wish we knew."

"And why aren't Edward and Jasper affected by them too?" Alice wondered angrily. "It doesn't make sense that I'm the only one whose extra sense they mess with!"

"Edward can read their minds and Jasper can affect their emotions, so it really is strange that they make the future invisible to you," Carlisle agreed sympathetically. "Whatever the explanation though, the things you see when the wolves aren't close by are still vital to our strategy, Alice."

Alice didn't agree—a largely incomplete picture of the immediate future could hardly be considered vital. "I just hate feeling useless," she muttered, staring at the ground.

"Alice, you're hardly useless," Esme said quietly, giving her a quick hug. "None of us knows for certain how the battle's going to turn out. All we can do is fight as best we can and—" Esme's eyes met Carlisle's, and for a moment, Alice was shaken by how badly the possibility of losing each other scared her parents. The fear she saw in their faces forced her to imagine losing Jasper—and Alice knew without question that she wouldn't be able to bear such a thing.

"—and look out for each other," Esme finished, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alice nodded and took Esme's free hand. "You're right," she said quietly, too upset by other worries now to really be concerned with the blindness the wolves brought on. Of course, their presence added to Alice's fear, because more than simply wishing she could see the possible outcomes of the battle, Alice was tired of the uncertainty that living without her visions entailed. _How do people stand it?_ she wondered, recalling what she'd said to Bella about hating the feeling of being normal. Right at that moment, standing in the clearing and trying not to imagine losing a member of her family, it seemed to Alice that there was nothing worse than the unknown.


	88. Battle

Hi everyone! Hope you're having an excellent Saturday, and here's a short update that focuses on Edward's thoughts before the battle in "Eclipse." (ONLY THREE MORE DAYS!) Thank you for all your great reviews, and I'll be back tomorrow with another update. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and OHMYGOSH ONLY 3 MORE DAYS!

_2006_: Battle

Edward's POV

Sitting in the tent a few feet from Bella and Jacob, I spent the whole night watching them sleep, occasionally wondering if my face would be permanently twisted into a grimace at the sight of him holding her. As I sat there, never moving accept to occasionally check my watch, I tried not to think about my family. I'd said goodbye to everyone earlier that day—'goodnight' actually, not 'goodbye.' We would all see each other again tomorrow of course, but still, sitting there in the dead of night, listening to the storm die down and waiting for the battle to begin, it was hard to stop my mind from conjuring up images of the worst happening.

Of course, part of the problem was the fact that 'the worst' could entail so many things. I didn't want to lose any of them—even the wolves, who were Bella's friends (and our allies for now at least) seemed like more than I wanted to risk losing. Hearing the thoughts of the pack over the past few days had drawn me closer to them than I wanted to admit to Bella; after all, whether she saw it this way or not, Jacob Black had become my rival, and it seemed almost like a weakness to be able to empathize with him and his fellow werewolves so easily. But privately, I knew that if one of the pack died, such a loss would be hard to bear. I would mourn for the loss of the fallen wolf, but I also hated to imagine how irrationally guilty Bella would feel if one of her friends died fighting the newborns. Still, I thought that it would be possible for me to comfort her. She might be slow to recover from such a blow, but in time, Bella would forgive herself. If one of us died though…if one of my parents or siblings were lost, then I didn't know if I would be able to comfort Bella, because I knew that losing any member of our family would leave me disconsolate.

"You and Bella be safe," Esme had whispered that afternoon before I'd left to take Bella to the clearing. Esme had kissed me on the cheek then before grabbing me in a fierce hug.

I'd laughed at that. "Esme, we're not the ones who are going to be fighting tomorrow. You're the one who needs to be careful." For her sake, I'd made myself smile reassuringly at her instead of admitting that I'd feel much better if she stayed home tomorrow.

Then I'd hugged Carlisle too, but I didn't offer him the same cheerful façade that I'd shown in front of Esme. "Don't do anything stupid, all right?" I'd said quietly. That had made Carlisle smile, and I'd had gone on, willing him to really listen to me. "I'm serious. Esme can take care of herself. Don't get yourself killed trying to protect her unnecessarily."

"Did you tell Jasper the same thing about Alice?" Carlisle had asked, and I'd nodded reluctantly.

"He basically ignored me when I did, just like you're ignoring me now," I'd muttered irritably.

"I'm not ignoring you," Carlisle had said, his expression growing serious then. "But imagine if it were you and Bella who were going to be fighting, Edward. I _can't_ let anything happen to her. I'd die before I'd see her hurt."

"You do know that she feels the same way, don't you?" I'd said, glaring at him. Ever since I'd found Bella, I'd come to better understand the extreme protective impulses that everyone else in the family felt for their mate, but it bothered me that in the coming fight, such feelings might prove to be a disadvantage. After all, the newborns weren't going to be taking any foolish risks in the name of protecting each other.

Carlisle had nodded, and then he'd been the one smiling reassuringly. "We've discussed that, and we've promised each other that we won't get hurt. Dying isn't going to be necessary, Edward."

I'd rolled my eyes, but I was glad to hear that he and Esme had at least talked about the importance of controlling their overprotective urges. "I'm glad to hear it. Tomorrow, I'll take comfort in the knowledge that you're doing your best not to die."

"This time tomorrow, the fighting should be finished," Carlisle had said, obviously eager for that moment to arrive. "We'll all be in one piece, and it should be safe for you to bring Bella home, Edward. In the mean time, just try not to worry about us, all right?"

I'd agreed to try, knowing that I was going to be frantic for the duration of the battle, but I was equally certain that I wasn't going to show Bella how worried I was—she felt bad enough about this mess already, and I wasn't going to let my unease be one more thing that she would feel needlessly guilty about while the fighting went on. So as I waited for the night to pass, I watched Jacob holding Bella and practiced maintaining a neutral expression in the face of extraordinary pressure to frown. I was determined not to look upset when she woke up, and during the battle, I would be calm, confident in the strength of my family and our allies. I would not let Bella see how terrified I felt at the thought of anyone we loved being taken from us.


	89. Lost

Happy Sunday once again, and here's a quick update. This chapter takes place during the brief period between when Bree meets the Cullens and when the Volturi arrive—I loved reading about this in "The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner," so here's a short chapter on Bree's possible thoughts at this moment. Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow. :) Also, after this series of updates is finished on Tuesday, I've got a couple of Carlisle and Esme chapters that I'll be posting next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of "Twilight," a fact of which I'm sure you're well aware, AND ONLY TWO MORE DAYS UNTIL "ECLIPSE"!

_2006_: Lost

Bree's POV

As I sat with my eyes closed, Jasper's hands over my ears, I thought about everything that Diego and I had missed out on in our lives as vampires. What if, instead of tracking Riley and the others that night, we'd left instead? And what if we'd found this strange coven? Would they have treated us both in the way that the one called Carlisle had treated me? The fact that he hadn't ripped my head off the second he'd caught me was just starting to sink in, and suddenly I was amazed that he hadn't killed me. And the woman, Esme…she was strange too. The way she'd placed herself between me and Jasper had been even more shocking than Carlisle's mercy, because why would she feel the need to protect me, a total stranger and an enemy besides?

If we had found this coven of yellow-eyes a few days ago, maybe we could have helped them today. Though it had turned out that they hadn't needed our help to fight _her_ army, we could have told them what we'd heard the dark-cloaks saying to Riley and our maker that night. Of course, if there was really a mind reader here, then maybe he'd heard me thinking about that already. More than ever, I realized how completely Riley had kept us in the dark about the world of vampires. Though I wasn't certain that I could trust all of the yellow-eyes—I knew that Jasper would kill me if I gave him any excuse to—Carlisle and Esme at least were clearly good guys compared to the dark cloaks.

Would Diego and I have been like them if he'd...I couldn't say 'lived' somehow, because we'd both already been dead when we'd met. If he hadn't been…destroyed by Riley, or _her_—who had done it didn't matter now—would we have been like Carlisle and Esme someday? We'd been happy together in the short time we'd known each other, and now I wondered how long the clan of yellow-eyes had been together. They were different from us in so many ways, and from what little I'd seen of them so far, it seemed that they weren't together just to fight, or because there was one person in charge telling them to. It seemed like they were together because they wanted to be—even Jasper, scary as he was, maybe wasn't so bad, because he was friends with Carlisle and Esme. Did our kind usually have friends? Was it possible that what I'd felt for Diego, what I still felt really, wasn't so strange after all?

It was unpleasant, not being able to see or hear anything, but if that was what it took to stay alive, then I could tolerate it for now. Still, I wondered how much longer I was going to be waiting for something to happen. Now that I knew that Diego was gone, what exactly did I have to look forward to anyway? If I survived today, could I build some kind of life with these strange yellow-eyes? It was difficult to imagine such a thing—regardless of the fact that I was still alive right at this moment, I was scared when I tried to picture what my immediate future might be like. Without Diego, it felt like everything but the thirst and fear I'd felt from the beginning of my existence as a vampire had been lost.

_That describes me perfectly,_ I thought sadly, concentrating on the insides of my eyelids. _Lost_.


	90. Freaks

Hi everyone—OHMYGOSH, I'M GOING TO SEE "ECLIPSE" TOMORROW AT MIDNIGHT! Ahem, anyway, today's chapter (another short one) focuses on Jane's possible thoughts about the Cullens after the battle-as much as Alice and Bella might irritate her, I think the fact that the Cullens relate to each other as a family would be especially strange and unpleasant to Jane. Hope you're having a great day, and I'll see you for one more "Eclipse" update tomorrow. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," AND I CAN'T BELIEVE I'LL GET TO SEE "ECLIPSE" TOMORROW! :)

_2006_: Freaks

Jane's POV

As she passed the smoking heap of bodies that the Cullens were destroying in the wake of their battle with Victoria's army, Jane struggled to control her fury. Victoria and her pawns—the girl Bree, the one called Riley, all of them together—_should_ have caused at least some harm to Carlisle Cullen's strange coven. But according to Edward Cullen, they'd destroyed a group of vampires that had been admittedly young and foolish, but also physically stronger than they. And Victoria's little band of newborns had been three times the size of the Cullen coven—how was it possible?

Striking a leisurely course east, Jane considered the problem. Had the Cullens perhaps had allies that they hadn't wished to reveal? Carlisle wasn't old compared to many in Volterra, but he had been in this country for nearly two centuries, and he was a popular figure with many friends among nomadic immortals. And of course, this was their territory—the Cullens had had, in the parlance of humans, "the home team advantage." But the greater numbers of Victoria's coven still made their victory strange, almost suspicious. Of course, a number of Carlisle's so-called children were talented…so much so that Aro was loathe to see them destroyed, despite the fact that they were breaking the law in keeping Edward's little pet human.

_At least Caius knows what needs to be done_, Jane told herself. In spite of the talents of some of its members, the entire Cullen coven was an aberration that needed to be dealt with. Once they were destroyed—since the Cullens were a large and well-known coven—the mess that Victoria's newborns had made in Seattle would swiftly be forgotten, and every immortal in the world would remember what happened to those who broke the law. Jane intended to make sure that by the time they were finished, the power of the Volturi would go unquestioned in this region for decades.

"We're just leaving?" Felix muttered, catching up now that he'd disposed of the remains of the girl Bree. "What about the human?"

"As I said before, Caius will be interested to hear about that," Jane said calmly. "We will return soon to make sure that they've made good on their promise to change her."

Felix shook his head, looking irritated. "They've had plenty of time. There's no point in waiting any longer—"

Jane gave him a sharp look and Felix fell silent. "We will return," she said quietly, more troubled than she would ever admit by the very existence of the Cullens. Their way of life was utterly foreign to her, unnatural and wholly undesirable to any sane immortal. The way they chose to live was simply ridiculous—masquerading as humans, suppressing their instincts, pretending to be some sort of…family. Privately, she shared Felix's distaste for the strange coven, and she too would have liked nothing better than to destroy them then and there in the clearing. But there was always the law to consider.

_They're freaks_, Jane told herself calmly. _The law exists to deal with such aberrations. And they will be dealt with soon. _


	91. Sympathy

OHMYGOSH, GOING TO SEE ECLIPSE TONIGHT AT MIDNIGHT! Random note about this chapter: I actually wrote it months ago, around the time I did all the "New Moon" chapters, but then I saved it when I realized that I was going to be doing "Eclipse" updates too. It takes place after Bella goes to visit Jacob at the end of "Eclipse," and it deals with how Carlisle might have sympathized with Jacob at this moment. Also, I loved the idea of Esme cooking for the wolves (which we first read about in "Breaking Dawn"), so I included that here, even though it's probably a bit early in the actual chronology of the story for that to happen. (Also, as is usually the case with Jacob chapters, this chapter is a bit long). Hope you've enjoyed this series of "Eclipse" updates, and I'll see you next week with two new Carlisle and Esme chapters! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," AND I CAN'T BELIEVE I FINALLY GET TO SEE ECLIPSE TONIGHT!

_2006_: Sympathy

Jacob's POV

I was lying in bed, still sort of dazed by Bella's visit (and the morphine that Dr. Fang had given me the last time he'd stopped by), when I realized that I wasn't even upset—not yet. I loved Bella too much to be angry with her, even if she really was choosing him. I guess it was a 'love the sinner, hate the sin' sort of moment for me. Even if I did think Bella was making the biggest mistake of the century, that didn't change the way I felt about her. In fact, knowing how she felt made me even more desperate to change her mind before it was too late. Somehow, in spite of my promise to be good, I was going to have to do something...once I was able to move again.

My thoughts were interrupted then by the sound of Billy knocking on my bedroom door. "Dr. Cullen's here," he called.

I grimaced and tried to sit up, but I quit trying when my head sort of started to feel disconnected from the rest of my body. Billy, to my amusement, and the rest of the pack's unease, seemed to have pretty much forgotten the whole 'we hate leeches' thing as far as Carlisle was concerned. Ever since I'd gotten hurt, the doc had been checking on me every day to make sure my bones were healing right, since any doctor at the hospital in Forks (other than the one who was a vampire) would have freaked out at my ridiculously high temperature, and the way that I was almost completely healed already. Thus the house calls by Dr. Leech and Billy's gratitude for such. And Sam's irritation at having one of _them_ on our land.

"Come in," I muttered as someone else knocked. Carlisle came in, still dressed for the hospital, and sized me up immediately.

"Too much morphine again," he decided. "Sorry, Jake, but you were in so much pain last night that I upped the dosage again. You'll probably be completely healed by the time I get the amount right."

I smiled grimly. "Hey, the next time a bloodsucker almost rips me in half, you'll have another chance to get it right."

Carlisle smiled—he never acknowledged my name-calling, and if it bothered him to hear vampires called "bloodsuckers,' or 'leeches' or anything else, he didn't show it. I sighed and stared out the window as he started to check on how my fractures were healing, and though I tried to stop myself from thinking about it, being in a room with Carlisle always made me think of why the guy bothered me. More than the rest of the Cullens, Carlisle and his wife made the whole pack uncomfortable, for the simple fact that they were too damned polite, too quick to worry about us in addition to their coven—basically, they just seemed too _nice _to be vampires. (I knew that in the refrigerator, there was more than one meal that Esme had made for me and Billy so my dad wouldn't have to cook while I recovered—if there's something more disturbing than having a vampire cook for you, then I haven't heard of it).

The other Cullens were easy—the pack hated Edward for what he was going to do to Bella, and all of his 'siblings' liked us about as much as we liked them. They just seemed more dangerous than their parents somehow; Emmett and Jasper alone could maybe kill half of us before we took them down if it ever came to a fight, and the battle with the newborns had taught us not to underestimate the lady leeches either. Unlike their children though, Carlisle and Esme weren't itching for a fight with us. They never commented on our scent either, and they actually went out of their way to help us. I mean, it wasn't like Carlisle was ever tired after a day at work or anything, but he was voluntarily visiting a place where he wasn't exactly welcome to make sure I was healing okay. I knew his kids hadn't been happy when we'd insisted that he be the only one to set foot on the rez to check up on me, but he was here now anyway.

With the rest of the Cullens, it was easy to justify our instinctive dislike too—between all the name-calling and obvious mistrust, we all felt that it just made sense to hate them. They were a danger to humans and to us, and the sooner they left Forks, the better. But with the doctor and his wife, it was easy to forget about that stuff. Even now, with him sitting right next to me, I barely noticed the smell, and though I'd been suspicious at first, I usually ended up eating the food that Esme sent over, which was always delicious in spite of the faint too-sweet smell that clung to it. Then there was the fact that Carlisle had probably kept Billy from going off the deep end when they first brought me home, looking like something out of a horror movie—he'd calmed everybody down without having Jasper's creepy talent to help him, and today, the old man hadn't even insisted on being in the same room with us when Carlisle came over.

_This whole thing is a bad idea_, I thought angrily. _The only trustworthy vampire is a dead vampire, and pretending that Carlisle isn't an enemy is nuts. He probably knows just as well as I do that I'd rip his kid to shreds if I thought that Bella would ever forgive me._

"Healed," Carlisle said, sounding amazed. "Normally, I'd want to do x-rays to make sure, but I don't think an x-ray would tell me anything I can't detect just by sight and touch. Anyway, I have no experience with this kind of accelerated healing. Breaks as bad as yours were take weeks or months to fully heal—not days."

"So now I get to spend months just _pretending_ that I have broken bones?" I wondered irritably. "Perfect."

When I heard that no bones were broken anymore, I sat up sort of cautiously and found that my head had stopped spinning—the morphine had almost burned off again. For about the millionth time, I wondered why _Charlie _of all people had had to see me right after the battle—now I was going to be wearing phony casts all summer.

"There's a pair of crutches and a walking cast for you in the living room," Carlisle said kindly, opening his bag. "Are you in any pain right now?"

'No, and I think the morphine's mostly gone," I said, wondering just how much he'd given me in the last dose—I'd practically been knocked out until a few minutes ago.

"Smells like it," Carlisle agreed. "All right, I was going to prescribe something stronger, but now I think that aspirin should take care of any aches you have in the next few hours. Moving might be a bit uncomfortable at first, but that's just because your body's healed so quickly, and you've barely been able to move since you were injured. Just take things slowly at first, and your muscles should loosen up soon."

"What, I'm really fine now?" I demanded. Even I thought I'd healed pretty fast, considering how messed up I'd been right after the fight. "Guess this is your last house call then, at least until the next time I do something stupid."

"Much as I like talking with you, Jake, I'm rather hoping there isn't going to be a next time," Carlisle said, standing up to leave.

"Maybe I'll see you sometime this summer then," I said without thinking—even as I spoke, I wondered why the hell I was bringing this up. "I heard that there might be a wedding in a month or two."

"You're right," he said quietly, looking back at me as he opened the door, and I was weirdly glad that he didn't try to pretend that I didn't automatically hate that idea, considering what would happen to Bella sometime afterward. "I'm sorry, Jacob."

"Why?" I muttered awkwardly. "Your son's the one she's getting ready to marry."

"And I'm very happy for him," Carlisle said. "Bella too. But I'm still sorry you're unhappy, Jacob."

Suddenly I remembered how, before the battle, I'd seen Carlisle and Esme looking at each other, just as the first newborns had appeared. The look they'd shared had really bothered me for a minute, because seeing them so worried about each other had made me think, for the first time ever, that maybe Bella could be happy with these...people. They loved her, they'd risked their lives for her, and in losing a life with me, she was gaining a family that would do anything to protect her, that would always be there for her. And then there was _him_—no matter how I felt about Edward, it really did seem like Bella couldn't live without him.

"See you around, doc," I muttered—I wasn't about to thank him for feeling sorry for me. I stared out the window, watching as it started to rain and blinking really fast so that I wouldn't cry from thinking about Bella, and for a second, I thought I felt a hand on my shoulder, a comforting gesture that made a lump rise in my throat. But by the time I turned around, Carlisle was gone.


	92. Together

Happy Thursday, everyone! Hope you had a great weekend, and that if you haven't gotten to see "Eclipse" yet, you get to see it soon! (OHMYGOSH, IT'S SO GOOD!) Unfortunately, there's only going to be one chapter this week—I was gone last weekend, and I'm going to be gone next weekend, so I'm a bit behind on the chapters I have planned, but this week's update is a long one at least. This chapter takes place a few months after Edward leaves Carlisle and Esme, and it shows them trying to adjust to his absence. Thank you so much for all your great reviews of the "Eclipse" chapters, and I'll see you again next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I LOVE ECLIPSE!

_1927_: Together

Carlisle's POV

It was a chilly April night, and though he knew she couldn't feel the cold, Carlisle draped his overcoat over Esme's shoulders as they headed toward then entrance of the hotel where the benefit dinner was being held. All the proceeds from tonight's event would be put toward building a new wing of the hospital, and as an employee, Carlisle had felt he'd had no choice but to attend. This was only his second week at the new hospital after all, so he was eager to make a good impression; the next time a sunny day rolled around and he needed a day off, it would be good to have built up a bit of good will among the hospital staff and administrators. His attendance was a good deal for the hospital at least—he was going to pay for a ticket to the dinner and dance, but he wouldn't be eating or drinking anything, and at first, Carlisle had planned to stay just long enough to be noticed before going back home to Esme. But then Esme had surprised him.

"Could I come?" she'd said abruptly while they were sitting before the fireplace the night before.

For a moment, Carlisle had been too shocked to react. Esme had slipped a few months before, and when they'd last tried to go out among humans, she'd very nearly slipped again. Carlisle had been hoping for weeks that she'd make another attempt—he could see how hard she was working to control herself, and now that they were here in a new town, he could sense that she was eager for a new start. But she was nervous too, and Carlisle hadn't asked her to come with him because he'd been afraid of making her feel as if he expected her to. Of course, her sudden desire to attend the benefit with him changed things.

"I'd love it if you'd come," he's said at last, "if you really want to. I don't want you to feel like you have to—l"

"I don't," Esme had said quickly, smiling almost shyly at him. "But I miss…having people see us together. Since Edward left, well…"

"We haven't…gone out very often," Carlisle finished unhappily, and they'd shared an expression of guilt mingled with concern. The truth of the matter was that they were both afraid of Edward coming home and finding them gone. "Home" was still Rochester, though Carlisle had recently moved to a different hospital, and now they'd moved to a new house just outside of town, but in spite of these changes, it would be easy for Edward to find them…when he wanted to. For months now, Carlisle knew that he and Esme both had lived in a constant state of expectation: if he didn't come home today, he might come home tomorrow, or later this week, or later this month…but he hadn't come home yet. And Carlisle knew that their staying home every day and every night he had off from work wasn't going to make Edward come home any sooner.

"Edward wouldn't want us to be so afraid of missing him. When he wants to come back, he'll come back," Esme had whispered, staring into the fire for a moment before looking back at him and smiling slightly. "And I'm going to try not to be afraid anymore either. I want to start going out again—I miss seeing movies and plays, and feeling like I can go shopping by myself safely...and I don't want you to feel like you need to worry about me anymore."

Carlisle had remembered that last mistake, and how disconsolate Esme had been after she'd drained the corpse of blood and realized what she'd done.

"I'm not worried anymore," he'd said slowly. "I've just been wishing that I could have helped you…cope. I couldn't think of anything to say or do that would make you feel better. I've hated seeing you so unhappy over something that wasn't your fault."

Esme, still smiling, had shaken her head. "Carlisle, I know that you'd like to make sure that I'm never unhappy. But I'm not like you—it's going to be a while, centuries maybe, before my self-control is as complete as yours. Until then, I'm going to have to accept the fact that I might make mistakes, and when I do…when I…kill someone, then it's only right I feel guilty about that, never mind that I didn't mean to do it. And when I do slip, even when all I can think about is how terrible I feel, you help me more than you know just by reminding me that there's something in my life besides the things I have to feel guilty for."

"I love you," Carlisle had said simply, because he hadn't been able to think of anything else to say.

So they went to the benefit, and after a few minutes, once he'd seen that Esme was doing all right, Carlisle was surprised to find himself actually having fun. He and Esme pretended to eat and drink, they danced for a while, and they talked with the various other members of the hospital staff in attendance with their spouses and families. Esme didn't speak much—Carlisle saw that she often held her breath—but she smiled at everyone and genuinely seemed to enjoy being out among people after spending the past few weeks at home. It was nearly midnight when they finally said their goodbyes to the other guests, and though Carlisle thought that hunting on the way home might do them both good, after hours spent in close confines in humans, Esme was still in control of herself, and as they prepared to leave, she even whispered "I'm glad we came."

"That was fun," Carlisle agreed, smiling down at Esme as they made their way toward the exit, moving at a human pace. "Having people see us as a couple, I mean."

"Maybe it will discourage the nursing staff slightly," Esme said, chuckling. "Though I seem to have inadvertently given some of the other doctors ideas."

"They'll all be asking me Monday if you have any sisters," Carlisle agreed, and they'd both laughed as they'd stepped outside into the cool night air.

"Ahh," Esme had sighed, taking in a deep breath of air un-laden with the tempting scent of humans. "As much as I enjoyed tonight, it's nice being able to breathe easily again. There were a few moments tonight when I was worried, but at least my throat never burned so badly that I couldn't stand it."

"I wish I could speed things up somehow," Carlisle said quietly, tucking a stray lock of hair under her hat. "You compare your self-control to mine, Esme, but you aren't really being fair to yourself—I'm so many years ahead of you."

"You never slipped," Esme said quietly, her golden eyes sad but resigned too.

"I nearly did, so many times," Carlisle said, taking her hand as they started walking home. "I wish that I could make it easier—make it so you wouldn't have to suffer all the years of temptation the way I did. All I ever seem to be able to tell you about your thirst is that it _will_ get better. Someday," he said with a sigh.

"Carlisle," Esme said, looking up at him thoughtfully. "I know you wish you could help me. And I wish that things weren't so hard, and that I weren't still so…unstable at times," she said with a sigh. "But when we think that way, I think we're both forgetting a big part of what being married is about."

"How so?" Carlisle wondered, suddenly anxious. He often worried about this very thing—how could he be a good husband when he wasn't even remotely worthy of Esme?

"We both keep thinking that we have to shoulder every burden ourselves," Esme said, smiling fondly up at him. "You think it's your job to make my thirst more bearable, and I think that it's my job to learn to control myself on my own, the way you had to. But we're both wrong. We need to stop always trying to do things for each other and ourselves all alone—part of being married is learning how to face our problems together."

"Together," Carlisle repeated, smiling too now. "As a couple."

"As a couple," Esme agreed, squeezing his hand, and Carlisle leaned down to kiss her forehead just beneath her hat. It wasn't going to be easy to do what Esme had described. Though they'd been married for ten years now, his centuries alone and Esme's years with Charles had made them both far more accustomed to shouldering their burdens by themselves than asking for help. But Carlisle realized that that was exactly what they were going to need to do, now that Edward was gone. Living with the fear and anxiety they both felt on his account wasn't something that either of them could do alone. But together…Carlisle realized now that if they could learn to face this pain together, then when Edward did come home, he and Esme would have a stronger, happier home for him to return to.

"I like the sound of that," he whispered gently. "And in the spirit of that, I…I know I haven't said so lately, but…I miss Edward."

It was a very small thing to say, one that didn't begin to cover everything he felt about his son's departure, but it had been weeks since he'd articulated that feeling—they'd both been so consumed by it that Carlisle hadn't wanted to say the words aloud. But now that he had, he immediately felt relieved. He'd stopped walking, and Esme was already moving to wrap her arms around him.

"I miss him too," she whispered, and they stood there for awhile, in a shadow between two streetlights, and together, they tried to find a few minutes of respite from the grief that was nearly crushing them.


	93. Protective

Hi everyone! Sorry for not updating last week—work was crazy—but here at long last is a new chapter. It takes place a few years into Esme's life as a vampire, and how though she might enjoy having more independence, she'd still appreciate Carlisle's protective side. Thank you all so much for your wonderfully kind reviews, and I'll see you again next week!

(FYI, I'll probably only be doing one update per week the rest of the summer—my internship has gotten fairly hectic, so for the next few weeks, I'm just going to try and do one long-ish chapter per week instead of attempting more frequent, shorter updates. Thanks! :) )

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and "Eclipse" continues to be awesome. :)

_1926_: Protective

Esme's POV

After Esme's first day of college classes, she walked home alone, as she'd told Carlisle and Edward she wanted to. It was a beautiful fall evening, and Esme was enjoying the leisurely walk home, and the time to think it afforded. Now that classes were over for the day, she was relieved to be away from her new classmates (and the sweet smell of their blood), but she was also happy to know them. For the first time in years, she was going to have what passed for friends, and though she'd done her best not to draw attention to herself, as one of only two women in the class, she inevitably had. More than one boy (well, Esme supposed that they were really young men—they were in college, so that made them adults even if they did seem like children to her) had offered to escort her home. Of course she'd declined, but she was amused by the way men noticed her now. As a human she'd been the epitome of ordinary, a shy girl with messy hair and not much confidence in herself, but now it was impossible for her to enter a room without turning heads.

_I'll never get used to that part of being a vampire either_, Esme thought, though of course the beauty and the flattering attention that accompanied it was easier to adjust to than the thirst. Esme's throat had burned all through her classes that day, but she'd been so delighted just to be there that she'd barely noticed it at the time. Much as she loved being at home with Carlisle and Edward, it was exhilarating to go out on her own and learn about something she was interested in. She tried to imagine what it must have been like centuries ago when Carlisle had first mastered his thirst enough to safely enter a university.

He'd described it to her many times—how nervous and excited he'd been to be in a place and studying things that he would have had no chance of learning in his human life—but that part of Carlisle's life seemed so far away, and so unbearably lonely, that Esme didn't like to think about it. Now that she'd experienced something similar however, she found that she was better able to picture Carlisle then, eager to learn everything he could, and Esme could understand how much he'd enjoyed the years he'd spent immersing himself in every subject that interested him. He'd admitted, however, that whenever he left a lecture hall or classroom to return to his solitary lodgings to read and study until the following day, he'd often wished that there was someone to talk to waiting for him there. But for more than two centuries, there had only been books to keep him company.

_I'm so lucky to have people to go home to_, Esme thought happily, and then she winced when she caught the scent of a man walking towards her. For a split second, she felt almost fearful—_what was I thinking, walking home alone?_ she wondered—and then she remembered that the man was the one in danger, not her. Quickly, she left the road and stepped into the forest, where she was almost immediately concealed by the deepening shadows beneath the trees, and as soon as she was sure that the man wasn't following her, she ran for a few miles, pausing only to drink from a deer that happened to blunder into her path.

After wiping a bit of blood that had spattered onto her face with her handkerchief, Esme made her way back to the road and continued walking home. The sky was overcast now, and Esme sighed when she realized that she hadn't thought to bring an umbrella with her that day. Then she shook her head and chuckled at herself. _Again, you're a vampire now_, she chided herself gently. _You don't need to worry about things like strange men accosting you or catching your death of cold from being out in the rain._

The man, she reflected, had probably been harmless—he was only walking home more than likely, just as she was. Esme reflected that old fears and habits died hard—she'd been a vampire for over five years now, yes, but she'd been human for twenty-six years before that. She knew that Edward didn't like comparing this existence to his human life, but when she got home, she wanted to ask Carlisle how long it had taken him to lose his memories of human instincts like the desire to flee she'd felt earlier.

_It's nice to have some time to myself,_ Esme thought, smiling at herself. _But when I'm away from Carlisle and Edward, I just end up thinking about them anyway. And it will be nice to tell them about today…_

Esme started when she saw a figure moving several hundred yards away, wondering if she should leave the road again, and then she smiled when she saw that it was Carlisle, hurrying to meet her with an umbrella in his hand.

"Sorry," he said when she ran to meet him. "My shift ended early today, so I had time to go home and get this before the rain started. I know you don't really need it, but I thought—"

"It would look conspicuous if anyone saw me walking without one?" Esme guessed.

Carlisle grinned a bit sheepishly. "Actually, I was just worried you'd get soaked."

Esme laughed. "You know, I was just thinking a few minutes ago about how I didn't need to worry about that sort of thing anymore. Still, thank you."

"I know you wanted to walk home on your own," Carlisle said, still looking apologetic. "If you'd like, I can cut through the forest and meet you back at the house."

"Actually, I was just starting to think that I might like some company," Esme said, stepping under the open umbrella and slipping her arm through his. "I've had enough time to think about today that now I'm ready to tell you about it."

Esme told Carlisle all about her classes, and then he told her about his day at work, and what Edward had told him about school. Esme enjoyed the feeling of having something more to tell him than what she'd read that day or done around the house—though she felt it was too early to be certain that she would always be able to control herself, Esme was happy when she thought about having a life away from home, a life where she could mingle with humans, learn from them, and then come home to her family.

"You know, Edward suggested I come to meet you," Carlisle said when they were nearly home. "He was getting tired of listening to me worry about you."

"You were worried?" Esme asked, though she wasn't surprised. She'd tried to avoid thinking about it that day, but of course her thirst had made her uncomfortable at times. What if she were to make a mistake in a crowded classroom someday? The consequences of such a lapse didn't bear thinking about.

"It's a bit ridiculous," Carlisle said, looking sheepish again. "But I was worried about how you'd be…received by your classmates."

Esme stared at him, unsure how to respond.

"I know you can take care of yourself," Carlisle said quickly. "I was just hoping that no one would be rude, or—"

"Wait a minute," Esme said slowly. "You were more worried about how I'd be treated than the possibility of my being a danger to the other students?"

"You haven't slipped in years," Carlisle said, shaking his head. "I thought it might be a bit difficult for you today, but I knew that you'd leave if it became too much to bear."

Esme felt an odd mixture of pride and amusement. Carlisle trusted her judgment enough to help her enroll in college classes, and on her first day, he hadn't worried about her thirst—he'd worried about how her classmates might treat her.

"A few young men did offer to walk me home," Esme said, trying not to laugh when Carlisle tried and failed to conceal a look of mild irritation. "But they were perfectly polite when I declined."

"Edward was quite vocal on the subject of how foolish I was being," Carlisle said, smiling again, but still looking embarrassed. "'Ridiculously overprotective' was how he referred to it, actually."

"It was a bit silly of you to worry about me," Esme said, laughing as she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "But very sweet. And from now on, if your shift ends early, you're more than welcome to walk me home."

"I apologize for being overprotective," Carlisle said sincerely. "You really don't mind?"

"Not at all," Esme said happily, leaning against his shoulder as they walked. She didn't agree with Edward's use of the word 'overprotective'—rather, it was just in Carlisle's nature to want to protect the people he loved, after living so long without having anyone to share his life with. It wasn't overbearing to bring someone an umbrella, or worry about them on their first day of school—in fact, Esme guessed that Edward had only given his father grief about his concerns because he'd felt the same way when Edward had first gone back to school after the change. _I'll ask him about that later_, Esme thought, smiling.

"I know you don't need me to protect you," Carlisle went on, still looking a bit contrite. "I was just thinking about my first day of university classes today, and how different things would have been if I'd had you to walk home with."

"I thought about that too. Thank you," Esme said, pausing to kiss him again. "Even if it is unnecessary, I like feeling protected. When you do things like this, it reminds me how much you love me, and how you're always there when I need you."

"And even when you don't," Carlisle said, and they both laughed. This, Esme thought, was one of her favorite parts of being married to Carlisle: she loved these moments when it was perfectly clear how important they were to one another, how each protected the other from having to face the world alone, as they once had. _After all_, Esme thought, squeezing his hand and thinking about how much she worried about him on any given day, _I'm protective of him too_.


	94. Breakfast

Hi everyone! Sorry for another super-late update (I blame work again), but here at last is a new chapter. I've always wondered about the days that Bella mentions in passing in the epilogue of "New Moon," where she describes the way that the Cullens almost seamlessly reenter her life, and I wondered just how Charlie would fit in with that—thus this chapter, where Carlisle and Esme play a role in determining the terms of Bella's punishment. :) Hope you have a great week, and I'll have another update ready soon!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't wait to see "Eclipse" again!

_2006_: Breakfast

Bella's POV

It was the weekend after our return from Italy, and Charlie, who'd been almost incoherent with suppressed rage most of the time since then, told me Saturday morning that we were going to have breakfast at the Cullens' house. This announcement caught me off guard, since Edward hadn't mentioned it the night before. But when I thought about it, I realized that he had seemed a bit distracted, like he'd been trying not to think about something he found amusing.

"It's to discuss your respective punishments," Charlie practically growled before I could ask. "Esme called last night. She and Carlisle are just as upset about Edward's behavior as I am with yours, so we figured that we should talk things over together. That way, you'll both understand what's allowed and what isn't while you're both grounded."

I tried very hard not to smile as I pulled on my raincoat and followed Charlie outside to the cruiser, where I was relieved to note that he didn't make me ride in the back—Charlie was mad at me, but at least he wasn't _that_ mad. It was difficult not to laugh at the thought of what was coming: in a few minutes, Charlie and I would be sitting in the Cullens' huge and unused kitchen with Edward. Carlisle and Esme, who were both ridiculously grateful to me for following Edward to Italy, were going to pretend to be mad at both of us, but so subtly that Charlie wouldn't even notice, they would probably try and steer him away from grounding me until I graduated, assuming Esme hadn't already done so over the phone when she'd called Charlie to invite us over.

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes when I considered the fact that Edward was probably going to appreciate the coming performance more than he should. It bothered him that Carlisle and Esme were so relieved that we'd all returned from Volterra safely that they weren't even angry at him—maybe having them pretend to be irritated for as long as it took them to pretend to eat breakfast would help him feel a bit less guilty about the whole mess, but I doubted that. Knowing Edward, and the way he tended to take responsibility for things that weren't even his fault, he was never going to completely forgive himself for what had almost happened to us.

I shivered and zipped up my coat when I thought about the Volturi, and how close they'd come to killing all of us. In fact, if I was still human when they paid us a visit a few months from now, we were going to have problems—it scared me more than I wanted to admit when I tried to picture my life after graduation, but I knew that to keep Charlie safe, I had to become a vampire as quickly and discreetly as possible. Of course, this wasn't something that Edward liked to think about any more than our recent trip to Italy, but we were still so happy and relieved to be together again that over the past few days, we hadn't exactly made a point of discussing those aspects of the future that we disagreed about. Of course, as elated as I was to have Edward back, there were moments when I couldn't help but think about the people I was going to have to say goodbye to soon, now that my human days were numbered.

Though Charlie was furious that I'd let Edward back into my life so readily, the last time I'd talked to Renée, she'd sounded so relieved to hear me finally, really happy again for the first time since last September, that she barely lectured me when I told her the story about going to L.A. with Alice to find Edward. I imagined telling her about going away to college with Edward-as soon as Carlisle had promised to change me after graduation, I'd started researching schools in Alaska, since I'd need a good story to cover my disappearance. I knew she'd be happy for me no matter where I told her I was going to school, though maybe a little disappointed that I hadn't chosen a college in Florida. Still, she'd accept my absence—at first.

How many holidays would I be able to miss—how many Christmases and birthdays would Renée accept my excuses for not seeing her before she started to get suspicious? I knew that once that happened, to keep her safe, I would never be able to see her again—and the same went for Charlie. My parents could never realize that I'd stopped aging, could never look at the Cullens and wonder why they never got any older either. To protect them, there was going to come a time when I would have to disappear, and though I hated the thought of them wondering what had happened to me, there really wasn't any alternative—I couldn't risk the Volturi coming after Charlie and Renée too.

"Where am I supposed to turn?" Charlie wondered, interrupting my anxious thoughts.

"It's up ahead," I said, spotting a familiar tree. "It's sort of hard to see…"

"There?" Charlie asked.

"That's it," I said, leaning back in my seat as we made our way up the Cullens' long driveway. I tried to keep my expression calm, but already I could feel my heart starting to beat faster, and I turned to face the window on my right so Charlie wouldn't see the smile that was spreading across my face. It still barely seemed real, that they were really back here, a part of my life again. When Esme opened the door and stepped onto the porch to greet us, it was all I could do not to run up the steps and give her a hug.

"Good morning, Charlie," she said, smiling slightly, but still somehow managing to look as serious as the situation called for. Her expression reminded me that we were here to talk about the way Edward and I had disappeared, and it was strangely comforting to think that no matter what kind of punishment Charlie had come up with in response to the fictional story of our misbehavior, it was still a far better alternative than having him know where we'd really gone and what had really happened.

"Hi Esme," Charlie said, stepping into the house. "Thanks for having us."

As soon as his back was turned, Esme's face, which had been fixed and grim, broke into a smile, which I returned. "Hello, Bella," she said quietly, and she gave me a quick hug before she took our coats. Charlie had never been in the Cullens' house before, and I could see the way he was trying not stare—the Cullens' living room alone was as big as most of our house, and the kitchen, which they never used, looked like something out of a cooking show. Carlisle and Edward were already sitting at the table, and for once, there was actually food in the room.

"Smells good," Charlie said, nodding at whatever was in the oven.

"We can talk first, and then I can get everything ready to eat in a few minutes once we're finished," Esme said, taking a seat beside Carlisle. I sat down beside Edward, who took my hand under the table, and then Charlie sat down on my other side without giving Edward any greeting other than a dirty look.

"Morning, Carlisle," Charlie said.

"Good morning, Charlie," Carlisle said, his expression as perfectly disapproving and parental as Esme's was. "I understand that Bella's already told you what happened last week?"

"Sort of," Charlie said, and now it was my turn to feel the dirty look. "But she hasn't given me much more than the gist of it. I'm still not completely sure what happened."

"Edward was just explaining that to us again," Carlisle said, looking serious. "Essentially, a miscommunication between Edward and Rosalie was the problem…"

Edward and I just sat and listened while Carlisle spoke, which was probably for the best—if I'd had to do much more than nod and look apologetic, I might have started laughing. Lucky for me, the shaky story I'd given Charlie about running off to L.A. to clear up a misunderstanding that had caused Edward to leave home sounded a lot more plausible when Carlisle explained it. Basically, the story was that Rosalie had told Edward about my little cliff diving adventure (Charlie turned sort of purple at this point, just as he had the first time I'd mentioned it to him), and that Edward, thinking I'd died, had run away from home, and that I'd gone to L.A. with Alice to convince him to come home.

It all sounded pretty far-fetched to me, but Charlie was convinced by Carlisle's version of the story, and that was the most important thing—I shivered for the second time that morning when I thought about the fact that any lie we told him was about a million times better than the truth.

"Edward's grounded, of course," Carlisle said, and he and Esme both gave their son a disapproving look. Edward stared down at the table, trying to look contrite, but I could tell from his expression that he was struggling not to smile. "But we're willing to let him see Bella after school, Charlie, provided he's home before ten."

"He can stay until nine at night then," Charlie agreed, though he didn't look thrilled by the idea.

"What, you're going to let Edward in the house?" I said, surprised.

"If that's what it takes to keep you from sneaking off again, then yes," Charlie said grimly. "You aren't allowed to go anywhere but work and school, but you guys can see each other at the house as long as I'm around to supervise."

I was careful not to smile when I agreed to Charlie's terms for how I was going to be grounded—I was certain that when Esme had called the night before, she'd suggested this. Rather than appealing to his desire to punish me, she'd correctly assumed that what Charlie wanted most was to have me safe at home. I'd made it clear that Edward was a part of my life, and Charlie was apparently willing to put up with him in spite of his intense dislike if that would keep me from actually moving out, or running away again.

"Other than school, Edward, you aren't allowed to go anywhere but the Swans' house. Understood?" Esme said, looking stern.

"Yes, Mom," Edward said, looking sincerely apologetic now. "And I'm sorry again for how much I worried you."

Esme didn't say anything, but she nodded, and I could tell from her expression that she didn't have to pretend to be upset now. I remembered the way she'd looked at Edward when we'd met his farmily at the airport a few nights ago, and I cringed a little when I realized that I must have scared Charlie just as badly.

"Good," Carlisle said quietly, and then he and Esme were abruptly less imposing—apparently, that was the end of the lecture.

"How many eggs would you like, Charlie?" Esme said cheerfully, getting to her feet.

"Is that really it?" I whispered to Edward while Charlie, who was used to fending for himself at breakfast, asked what we were having.

"That's it," Edward said, almost regretfully. "Not that I don't deserve much more in the way of punishment for all this."

"Please don't say that," I hissed impatiently. "Other than Charlie, the rest of us don't blame you, so quit blaming yourself already."

Edward shook his head—I could tell that my words had had no effect whatsoever, but at least he was smiling now. "You know, I really hope you're hungry. This is the first time that Esme's made breakfast for anyone in decades, and I think she may have gotten a bit carried away."

'Carried away' was an understatement. There was bacon, sausage, eggs, toast, pancakes, waffles, fruit salad, and cinnamon buns, fresh from the oven. I was glad that Charlie was there—he actually made a dent in the huge meal, while I just tried to eat a little bit of everything. The Cullens were as convincing as always as they pretended to eat, though Charlie was so engrossed in his food that I didn't think he would have noticed if they hadn't bothered with the charade. I kept looking up from my plate and staring at their faces; a week ago, I wouldn't have been able to imagine this—I wouldn't have dared. Now they were back, and it felt like the events of last week had happened years ago.

In spite of what I was going to have to give up soon, and in spite of all the dangers I'd faced since I'd known Edward, I couldn't imagine anything better than finally, really becoming a part of his family. Just then, he glanced at me and smiled, and just as I had every time I'd seen him the past few days, I felt almost painfully relieved that he was here with me again. No matter what the rest of my human life had in store for me, and no matter how hard becoming a vampire turned out to be, I knew without a doubt that being with Edward, and becoming a Cullen, was the future I wanted. Still, I felt a little strange when I thought of how, in just a few weeks or months from now, I wouldn't be able to eat like this. I wouldn't be able to have breakfast with Charlie, or go outside on a day like this—the rain had stopped, and the Cullens' front yard was suddenly bathed in sunlight.

_How many more breakfasts will I eat,_ I wondered, more curious than scared by the _idea, before my human life is over? _


	95. Agreement

Hi everyone! Here's a Rosalie chapter that focuses on her dislike for Bella, and how Carlisle might try and get her to compromise a bit on that. Hope you're having a great Friday, and thank you all for your wonderful reviews! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of "Twilight," and I can't wait until "Eclipse" comes out on DVD! :)

_2005_: Agreement

Rosalie's POV

Edward and his little human girlfriend had arrived a few minutes ago—Rosalie had heard the car stop in front of the house—so now she was in the garage with Emmett, replacing a pair of brake pads that didn't really need to be replaced, but were currently serving as an unfortunate outlet for her frustration.

"This is a little bit painful to watch," Emmett said after a few minutes. Rosalie paused and grimaced at the dents she'd left on the undercarriage of the BMW from squeezing it too hard.

"I mean, as far as I know, the M3 never did anything to piss you off, Rose," Emmett went on, grinning down at her as he held the car above her head.

"You should probably find something else to do for a while," Rosalie said, not irritated with Emmett so much as guilty for the way she'd been acting lately. "It's bad enough that I've been in a foul mood for days—both of us shouldn't have to suffer."

"Hey, you know you're hot when you get mad," Emmett said, still grinning. After she slid out from under the car, he set it down and sat beside her on the floor of the garage. "Hotter than usual, I mean."

"Thanks," Rosalie said half-heartedly, leaning against his shoulder with a sigh when he put his arm around her. "Seriously though, my mood isn't likely to improve anytime soon."

"About how long do you plan on staying mad at Edward anyway?"

Rosalie made a face. "About how long is the average human lifespan these days?"

Emmett chuckled grimly. "Seventy-five or eighty years, I think. That's a long time to be pissed off."

"Well, I'm nothing if not good at holding a grudge," Rosalie said, smiling. "Go hang out inside for a while. I'll just wax the car and then I'll come upstairs."

"Okay," Emmett said, kissing her on the cheek before standing up. "I'll go see if Alice has a better idea of what the weather's going to be like tonight. She said there might be a thunderstorm coming. Wanna play ball if the weather cooperates?"

Rosalie's mood improved slightly at the thought. "Sure, I'll come. We haven't been able to play in a while." Then she frowned. "Is _she_ going to be invited?"

"No idea," Emmett said, but then he grinned and shook his head. "Honestly, I can't imagine Edward doing something like that unless he's decided he wants to scare her off before it's too late. I think that any sane human would have a pretty serious freak out if they saw how we play baseball."

"But she's not sane, obviously," Rosalie muttered to herself, and smiled when Emmett laughed as he left the garage.

As soon as Emmett went inside, Rosalie pulled a can of wax off a nearby shelf and settled down to polish the M3 for the third time that week. It was a known fact in the family that whenever Rosalie's car was especially shiny, to the point that light reflected off it was almost painful to the eyes, she was angry about something. And in this case, Rosalie's bad mood was compounded by the fact that she knew that she was in the right—having a human know their secret was far too risky—but her parents and siblings alike seemed to all be feigning indifference to the danger Edward was putting them in. Even Emmett, though he'd done his best to conceal his interest in Bella's visit, wanted to meet the girl.

Rosalie recognized the sound of Carlisle's footsteps a few seconds before he entered the garage, so by the time he was leaning against his own car, watching her work, Rosalie had been studiously ignoring him for long enough that she hoped he'd take the hint and leave without trying to start a conversation.

But of course, he didn't. "The paint's going to start coming off if you're not careful," he said quietly.

Rosalie paused reflexively when she heard this, but then she went back to polishing. "I thought you had the day off today."

"Dr. Snow's sick, so I'm going to cover his shift," Carlisle explained.

Rosalie snorted. "It's lucky you're not alive, or you would have been worked to death long ago."

After a few seconds of silence, Rosalie couldn't resist asking something. "Is she still here, or has Edward's guest fled the house out of fear for her life yet?"

"She's still here," Carlisle said, his tone patient. "Edward took her on a tour of the rest of the house, and they were in my office, last I knew."

"So you're really going to allow this?" Rosalie said, finally dropping the rag she'd been using to polish the car and turning to face him. "You've decided that this ridiculous whim of Edward's is more important than our family's safety?"

"Yes," Carlisle said simply, which caught Rosalie off guard—she'd been expecting him to deny it.

"Rose," Carlisle said gently, seeing that she needed further explanation. "Edward's been alone for so long. Remember how much you hated this life before you found Emmett?"

"That was different!" Rosalie hissed. "The way I died was _very_ different from the way Edward did!"

"Regardless, he's been unhappy for a long time," Carlisle said, his voice calm. "I'm not trying to quantify and compare his struggles with yours. I'm only saying that there was no question of my changing Emmett when you asked me to. You needed him in your life. Now Edward's found the person he needs. Since this is what he wants, I can't attempt to deny him a relationship with Bella."

"But she's _dangerous_, Carlisle," Rosalie said, irritated that he was comparing Emmett to Edward's future meal. "Now that she knows what we are, she can expose us anytime she wants."

"But she doesn't want to," Carlisle pointed out. "She just wants to be with Edward."

"For how long?" Rosalie wondered, frowning. "How long before she decides that we're too scary, and that she wants to go back to her ordinary human life?"

Carlisle shook his head. "I can't tell you when or if that might happen, Rose. For now, Edward and Bella care for each other. As long as that's the case, I'm not going to come between them. They have enough obstacles in their way already."

"Aside from the fact that this whole situation is dangerously unnatural and absolutely ridiculous, what kind of obstacles are you talking about?" Rosalie demanded. "Carlisle, I'm angry because you shouldn't have to tell Edward 'no'! No one should have to do that—he should know better! And yet he's endangering all of us for—"

"Rose," Carlisle said quietly. "After I changed you, how many years did it take before you could stand me?"

Rosalie was caught off guard, almost embarrassed by the question—this was the first time that Carlisle had ever brought up the years that she'd felt almost nothing but animosity for him. Still, she didn't have to think about her answer for very long. "I could tolerate you about ten years after you changed me. It took about thirty years before I actually started to like you though."

Carlisle smiled. "Right then. If you don't object, let's make a deal. You don't have to like Bella. You're welcome to ignore her the way you used to ignore me. But for Edward's sake, I'd like you to accept that she's a part of our lives now. You don't have to approve of that fact—just try to accept it."

Rosalie thought about this. It was annoying to be having this conversation at all—why was she the only one in the family who seemed to care about safety anymore? But Carlisle seemed to be serious.

"So, if she's still around thirty years from now, you're saying that I'll need to learn to like her by then?" Rosalie asked, smiling slightly.

Carlisle chuckled. "I'd appreciate it if you could try, but you don't have to promise me anything. Just try, Rose."

It was, she thought, ironic that Carlisle, who used to be the person she liked least of all the Cullens, had today somehow improved her bad mood ever so slightly by offering her a compromise: she didn't have to be happy about Edward's relationship with Bella, just as long as she acknowledged it. But she didn't have to acknowledge Bella. It was, on the whole, an appealing solution to the problem—and if she did what Carlisle was asking, then Emmett would get to meet the girl, just like he wanted to. And it would make Esme happy if her anger at Edward weren't quite so obvious…

"Fine," Rosalie said at last. "I can agree to try to tolerate her for now. And maybe someday, a few decades from now, I'll have completely forgiven Edward for his stupidity."

"Thank you," Carlisle said, smiling at her before finally getting into his car. "I'll see you later then."

"Coming to the game later?" Rosalie called.

"If Alice calls and tells me that we're really getting a storm," Carlisle said.

Rosalie smiled at the thought. Now that she wasn't quite as angry as she'd been before, she thought a game would be fun...even if playing baseball did mean she'd have to see Bella. _We agreed that I could ignore her_, Rosalie thought cheerfully._ So I will. No problem._

* * *

If you get the chance, reviews are much appreciated. :)


	96. Calm

Hi everyone! The idea for this chapter was suggested by a reader who wanted to know how the Cullens found out about Victoria and Riley's confrontation with Edward, Bella, and Seth-I loved the idea, so here's my take on it. Hope you had a great weekend, and I'll see you again soon with another update! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm finally reading "The Host"! (I know, I know, it's taken me forever, but I've kind of been saving it for when I wanted something really awesome to read, so...yeah, I'm finally reading it. :))

_2006_: Calm

Edward's POV

When I felt Bella go limp in my arms, it was all I could do not to panic. Today had been a nightmare already, and now the image of her, paler than usual in unconsciousness, was yet another bad memory I would carry with me for eternity. Still, frantic as I was, I knew I had to get her to Carlisle—if it was simply shock and the accumulated stress of the day (and the past few weeks, really) that had caused her to pass out, then she would be fine. But today had reminded me in clearer terms than ever before how very fragile Bella was, and how easily I could lose her in an instant.

"Hang on, Bella," I whispered desperately, and then, to my relief, I was at the edge of the clearing, and I could see my family gathered around a heap of burning bodies. It was a mark of what a horrible day this was that the sight was actually reassuring—after all, at least no one I loved was in that pile.

"Carlisle!" I shouted as soon as I could see my father. He took one look at Bella's limp form and was at my side in less than a second. I laid her on the grass and watched anxiously as he examined her.

"Oh, Edward, she's not—?" Esme whispered, appearing at my other side. Her voice held all the horror I'd felt when Bella had first fainted, but then I felt Esme relax when she heard the familiar sound of Bella's heartbeat.

"I told her about Jacob," I explained guiltily. "And I think that on top of everything else she's been through today, it was just too much, and—"

"Wait, what else happened today?" Carlisle asked, confused.

"Victoria found us," I said dully, gazing down at Bella's still face. "She had a friend with her too."

Carlisle and Esme both stiffened and looked me, horrorstruck.

"Seth and I took care of them," I said quickly. I wasn't about to explain how Bella had nearly frozen to death the night before, how Jacob had been the one to keep her warm, and how he'd convinced her to kiss him this morning—there would be time for that later, assuming I ever felt a desire to relive the past twenty-four hours, which wasn't likely. "But Bella saw the whole fight. She seemed fine—just relieved that Seth and I were all right when it was over—but as soon as I told her about Jacob…"

"She's fainted then, from the stress of all this," Carlisle said, confirming my previous suspicion. "All her vitals are fine, Edward. She'll be awake again soon."

"Bella," Esme murmured, pushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. "Everything's going to be okay now, sweetie."

Of course, I could hear from Esme's thoughts that she wasn't completely sure this was true. Alice was intensely focused on the approach of the Volturi, who would be arriving in minutes, and now that I was able to think about anything other than my blind terror for Bella, I could hear how tense everyone was—the battle was over, but we hadn't really won yet. Not until the Volturi agreed to leave us in peace—in spite of the fact that Bella was still human—could we really call today a victory.

Just then, I noticed the girl that Jasper was guarding. At the very sight of her, and the faint smell of human blood that clung to her, I stiffened and started to growl reflexively.

"Edward," Carlisle said gently. "She surrendered."

"Surrendered?" I repeated wildly. "Carlisle, as soon as she catches Bella's scent, she'll try to kill her!"

"Jasper's watching her, Edward," Esme said soothingly. "Besides, it really seems as though she doesn't want to hurt anyone. She wasn't a part of the fighting before—she didn't want to be here anymore than we did."

I frowned in the girl's direction, but slowly, I could feel myself relax. Jasper was using his influence on the girl, to keep her docile, and now it was working on me too, making my irritation at Carlisle and Esme all but evaporate.

Jasper could sense what I was feeling—our eyes met for a moment, and he shrugged. _No one would have spared her but those two,_ Jasper thought, shaking his head at our parents. He was covering the newborn girl's ears, presumably so she wouldn't learn about the existence of the wolves. Sure enough, a quick examination of her thoughts told me that she thought the strange sounds she'd heard during the battle had been made by another sort of vampire—creatures like us, whose existence she hadn't been able to imagine yesterday.

Carlisle's and Esme's compassion had made a strong impression on her—she would obey us if that was what it took to stay alive, but Carlisle and Esme's behavior had made her not just willing but eager to do whatever it would take to stay near them. Now that the army was gone, she was alone. The other newborns hadn't been her friends by any means, though I could see that she cared for two former members of the army, and what little she'd seen of our family so far—our sheer difference from the life she'd known up until today—had made her anxious to stay close to the only two people who seemed to care whether she lived or died.

"She wants to stay with us, if you'll allow it," I said grudgingly, nodding in the girl's direction. "She's lost everyone else she cared about, so I can see she'll do her best to abstain from human blood if that means you'll let her stay with our family...the two of you specifically."

Carlisle nodded. "She can stay, if she's willing to hunt the way we do. Considering how big our family is already, one more of us won't really be all that conspicuous."

"She can have the spare room across from Alice and Jasper's," Esme whispered thoughtfully, glancing back at the girl and smiling. "And in a few years-"

"Esme," I said quietly, wanting to stop this train of thought before she got too interested in the girl. "We don't know that the Volturi are going to let us keep her."

Esme looked startled, but Carlisle's face fell slightly, and he put a hand on Esme's shoulder. _You're right_, he thought grimly. I frowned at the note of sadness in that thought. He and Esme already felt some attachment to the girl, and they hadn't stopped to consider how the Volturi might react to her presence here, now that the rest of the army had been destroyed.

"Carlisle, you don't think they'd really kill her, considering..." but Esme trailed off, realizing that the Volturi probably would kill her, if there was any reason at all that leaving the girl alive could be harmful to them. But how could she be dangerous to them...unless she knew something they didn't want us to know. I looked back at the girl and began to listen to her thoughts more carefully. Perhaps there was more to this than Victoria's plot for revenge. A vendetta by one of our kind wouldn't be of much interest to the Volturi, though the damage Victoria's army had done in Seattle had forced them to come looking for answers, but since the army in question had been large enough to wipe out a coven our size...the only coven in the world with the numbers and abilities to threaten the Volturi...then it required little imagination to see how Jane and whoever she'd brought with her, though not Victoria's allies, hadn't been her enemies here either. Aro wanted Alice and I to join him, yes, and if half our family were wiped out by a bunch of newborns, then so much the better for his designs on us. Yes, it was quite possible that the Volturi had known about Victoria for some time and had turned a blind eye to her activities.

"Regardless of what they decide, we'll need to do as they say," Carlisle said grimly, bringing me back to the present. "We outnumber them, but Jane alone is more than a match for any of us."

Esme bit her lip, but she nodded. She and Carlisle were both crouched beside Bella and I, and Esme shifted closer so she could lean her head against Carlisle's shoulder. He kissed the top of her head, and for a moment their thoughts were almost identical; not an unusual phenomenon for my parents, but it still always caught me by surprise. Very few people are so in sync with one another.

_I'm so glad that everyone's all right_, they were both thinking, dwelling on the thought of each other especially. _And as soon as the Volturi leave, we can start to think about the future. _

The future-with everything else we'd had to worry about lately, I'd barely spared a thought of what the next few weeks of our lives would be like. Bella and I would get married. We would...try to consummate that union. And then, Carlisle and Esme were thinking, she would really become a member of our family, forever. Just a few weeks before, they'd been afraid that they were going to lose me, and Bella too, when she and Alice had followed me to Volterra. Now, their thoughts for us were simply happy, and relieved; because Bella and I loved each other, my parents were relaxed, even eager about our future together. _They trust my self control more than I do_, I thought grimly, thinking of the honeymoon that Bella wanted and trying not to shudder at the thought.

I looked down at Bella and tried to control myself. Carlisle and Esme were right of course-everyone was okay, and with any luck, the Volturi would leave us peacefully today-after all, we'd broken no laws. It was errational to be so worried when I knew logically that Bella was going to be fine, but until she opened her eyes again, and until our visitors from Italy had come and gone, I wasn't going to feel anything approaching my parents' calm and confidence in the future.


	97. Aunt

Hi everyone! Sorry for the long delay in updating—in the past couple weeks, I've moved, and then classes started, but now I'm almost caught up on everything I have that needs to get done, and I finally have wireless again, so I'm hoping to update a bit more frequently from now on this semester (maybe every Sunday again, starting this Sunday, since I actually finished two chapters this week ). Oh, and I finished reading "The Host"—OHMYGOSH, IT WAS SO GOOD! I cried for basically the last hundred pages, and now I'm excited for the movie (whenever it comes out sometime in the future... ).

This chapter is from Alice's POV, and deals a bit with how she feels about being an aunt, but it also focuses on how the Cullens in general, Carlisle and Esme especially, feel about Nessie. (This story is set just after "Breaking Dawn," so I imagine that all the Cullens would just be starting to enjoy Nessie's presence in their family as opposed to being worried sick about her rapid aging). Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and did you know that "Eclipse" is back in theaters? It is! (It's in honor of Bella's birthday, which was the 13th. So, you know what I did this past weekend. )

_2007_: Aunt

Alice's POV

"What about this one?" Alice asked, holding up a small blue dress.

"I've worn that one already," Nessie said, looking up at the dress Alice was holding. "Remember? You took my picture out in the garden."

"That was a completely different blue dress," Alice said cheerfully, picking up a black jacket to go with the dress. Nessie grew so fast that she could rarely wear a given outfit more than once or twice before she was too big for it. "I bought this blue dress to replace your old one."

Nessie sighed, but she put down the book she'd been flipping through and stood up to take the dress from Alice. "I think that I might be about as interested in clothes as Mama is."

"Please don't say that," Alice said, shuddering slightly. "If it were up to Bella, she would wear nothing but jeans and t-shirts."

"I like jeans and t-shirts," Nessie said, and then giggled when Alice groaned and threw herself down on the bed, upsetting a pile of clothes they'd been packing up to take to Goodwill—Alice liked to think that every time Nessie grew a little more, some other little girls got new clothes. And it gave her an excuse to shop for Nessie on practically a weekly basis, so that was nice too.

Alice liked spending time with Nessie—everyone did, of course, but it was different for her than it was for Rosalie and Esme, who were so motherly, each in their own way, and Bella, who'd changed since becoming a mother herself. Alice had never felt the strong desire that her mother and sister had to have children, though the idea of a child that was hers and Jasper's made her smile, but still, it was fun to spend time with her niece. She was such a perfect combination of Edward and Bella, in both looks and personality, that Nessie had seemed like a friend long before she could even talk, and now that she could speak, it was all Alice could do to not try and spend every minute with Nessie—these days, everyone in the family seemed to have a problem with leaving her alone.

Today, they'd had a few minutes to themselves when Carlisle and Esme had gone food shopping for Jacob and Seth, while Jasper and the others had gone hunting. Edward and Bella, who Alice knew found it difficult to keep their hands off each other, had disappeared into Edward's old bedroom over an hour ago, so Alice was babysitting, though really Nessie was the one keeping her entertained and not the other way around. She really was the most beautiful little girl in the world, and as long as she would tolerate it, Alice wasn't going to let a day of her accelerated childhood pass without having Nessie try on as many cute outfits as she could stand.

"Okay, I'm dressed," Nessie said, hopping up onto the bed beside Alice, now wearing the blue dress and black jacket. "Will grandma and grandpa be home soon?"

"In a minute or two, so let's go downstairs and meet them," Alice said, sitting up so Nessie could climb on her back and ride piggyback down the stairs. Making sure that Nessie was hanging on tightly, Alice slid down the last few feet of the banister, which made Nessie laugh. Just then, they saw Carlisle's car pass the house on the way to the garage, and Nessie hopped off Alice's back and ran to meet them, giggling as Alice chased after her.

The thought of Nessie's immortal grandparents made Alice grin as she ran. Carlisle and Esme, grandparents—everyone seemed to think that she was an almost infallible psychic, but she'd never seen Nessie coming, never would have guessed that a person who would make their whole family so happy could exist. The fact that she was an aunt now still seemed a bit unbelievable to Alice, but Carlisle and Esme, forever in their twenties, looked even stranger as grandparents, though they seemed to enjoy their new role as much as all of Nessie's aunts and uncles did. Carlisle and Esme seemed to understand Nessie almost as well as Edward and Bella did too—while the other Cullens sometimes worried about what they said or did in front of Nessie, their parents seemed to know instinctively when Nessie needed the kinds of reassurances and fun that all kids did and when it was best to treat her like an adult; whether she was looking at medical books with Carlisle or running through the sprinkler with Esme, Nessie was happy, and so were her grandparents.

"Hi!" Alice said cheerfully when they reached the garage, stopping beside Nessie, who had already picked up a bag of groceries to carry inside.

"Careful, that's heavy," Esme said, but then she shook her head. "Never mind, actually. I saw you and Emmett throwing rocks in the river yesterday."

"Yeah," Nessie said, easily handling the weight of the paper bag. "Uncle Emmett picked up one that was as big as a car. I can still only lift little ones."

"I wouldn't call rocks the size of steamer trunks particularly little," Carlisle said, ruffling her hair as she passed, and Nessie laughed.

"Uncle Emmett said we could catch fish that way. I knew he was just kidding, but it was still fun."

"I'm sure Emmett had a lot of fun thinking he fooled you," Alice said, rolling her eyes. "He should know by now that you're probably already smarter than he is."

Nessie laughed, but she didn't disagree as she carried the grocery bag inside. Everyone else picked up a few bags and took them to the kitchen, where Esme, who'd reorganized the cupboards several times since she'd started actually keeping food in them, started unpacking everything.

"There's not room for all this in the fridge," Nessie said, looking in the bags. "Should I call Jacob and have him come eat some stuff?"

"That might be a good idea," Esme said, frowning. "For our next house, we're going to need an industrial size refrigerator."

"And a dog door," Alice said quietly when Nessie went into the pantry.

"Alice," Carlisle said, shaking his head.

"I'm just joking," she said. "They don't make dog doors that big anyway."

"Nessie doesn't like hearing things like that," Carlisle reminded her quietly, and Alice frowned. Nessie couldn't understand the remnants of animosity that still existed between the wolves and the vampires, but ever since she'd started talking, both the pack and the Cullens had been trying to keep their passive aggressive comments to themselves as much as possible.

"Part of being an aunt is being a good role model, you know," Esme said quietly, also speaking so quickly and quietly that Nessie, who was busy stacking bags of chips and cookies wherever they would fit in the pantry, didn't seem to hear. Alice thought, as she often did, how amazing it was that Nessie even existed, thereby forcing a sort of friendship with the wolves, to say nothing of making everyone in the family into 'role models,' as much as vampires could be, she supposed. And making her an aunt, and Carlisle and Esme grandparents, which was somehow the strangest thing of all.

"You're right," Alice said to Esme. "I'll try to set a better example, starting by getting Nessie some new clothes. If we're not careful, she's going to turn out as indifferent to fashion as Bella is. "

Coming back into the kitchen, Nessie laughed, and Alice grinned—it was fun to be an aunt.


	98. Rest

Happy Sunday, everyone! Hope you're having some good weather wherever you are—I know that fall's coming/here already, but it's been warm enough lately that I've almost been able to pretend that it's still summer. This week's chapter is a bit sad: it's a conversation I first imagined happening in my other fic, "I'm Always In Love," when Esme first becomes a vampire and deals with the loss of her son in addition to suddenly being immortal. I never really explored this idea back then, so here it is now. As always, thank you for your wonderful reviews—they always make my day when I read them. :) I hope you have a great week, and I'll see you next Sunday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 75 DAYS UNTIL ECLIPSE IS OUT ON DVD!

_1921_: Rest

Esme's POV

Impossible as it seemed, Esme could now accept the fact that she'd been dead for several days. Four, to be exact, and since the previous day, she'd even been able to move and speak and generally exist without the agony of venom burning through her veins. _I'm a vampire now,_ she kept telling herself, feeling that her eyes would be permanently wide with amazement when she thought of what little she'd seen of this life so far: every sight, sound, smell was so much clearer and nuanced than before, everything she touched felt so much different, so much more…fragile, in many cases, as Esme discovered several times in the course of each day. Simple tasks like dressing and opening doors had become exercises in self-restraint, as evidenced by the torn articles of clothing and damaged pieces of furniture that Esme was mortified to find herself responsible for.

It was Monday, and Edward had gone to school for the day. Carlisle would return to work that night for the first time since he'd changed her—a nasty case of the flu was what he'd told the hospital was keeping him away—and though Esme was a bit nervous at the thought of being alone with Edward, who knew all her secrets and had to listen to her grief and thirst besides, she was happy, and impressed, when she thought of the work Carlisle did. Her newfound thirst for blood made the very idea of getting anywhere near humans seem impossible, though Carlisle and Edward assured her that, in time, she'd learn to control herself. But even Edward, who'd been this way for over three years now, had never dared to visit Carlisle at the hospital; when Esme imagined the effort it had taken Carlisle, over a period of centuries, to master himself enough to practice medicine, she couldn't help but feel a little awed.

Of course, thinking about Carlisle was enjoyable for two reasons: first, he was everything she remembered from the day she'd met him as a teenager, everything and more really, and second, thinking about him kept her from dissolving into a veritable puddle of sorrow when she thought of her son. Her little boy, so soft and tiny…and gone now. Gone forever.

That morning, she was alone briefly—though he clearly hadn't wanted to leave her (and Esme too had worried about a human coming to the house and meeting a grisly end), Carlisle had gone to buy some new clothes for Esme. In his absence, Esme laid on her bed, her face pressed into her pillow, and cried. This wasn't something that she ever wanted Carlisle to see, and which she never wanted poor Edward to have to hear in detail, so Esme was resolved to purge the worst of the terrible grief she felt for her son while no one else was around to suffer with her. She sobbed for what felt like hours, muffling her cries with the pillow and blanket beneath her, disoriented by the fact that she could now cry like this seemingly indefinitely without producing any tears, or having to stop and blow her nose, or even take a breath really. It was one more thing that she appreciated about this new life: the grief she felt when she thought of her little boy was so vast that it only seemed fitting that she should now have a body capable of suffering endlessly without tiring.

"Esme?" Carlisle whispered, his voice concerned. Esme's head snapped up at the sound—she'd been so engrossed in her sorrow that hadn't even heard his car pull up, hadn't heard him come upstairs. Quickly she sat up and smoothed her dress down, then wiped at her face, trying to brush away tears that weren't there before facing the closed door. "Yes, come in," she said quietly, willing her voice to sound normal.

Carlisle opened the door slowly, almost cautiously, and one look at his face told Esme that he'd heard enough of her sobs to guess what the source of her distress was. She wondered if, despite the lack of tears, she even somehow looked like she'd been crying.

"Are you…" he began, but then he shook his head. "Obviously you're not all right. Would you like me to go?"

"No!" Esme said quickly, wishing she didn't sound so desperate. "No, I'm…I'm fine now. Really, I feel much better after…all that."

Neither of them believed the lie. Still moving cautiously, as though worried about how she'd react, Carlisle moved toward her, then sat down at the end of the bed, just a few feet away from her. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Just having company now…helps," Esme said softly, after thinking about his question for a moment. "I'm sorry. I wanted to do that when you and Edward were both gone. I didn't want either of you to have to hear me."

Carlisle shook his head, looking upset. "Esme, you have every right to feel the way you do."

Esme shrugged. "But it doesn't make me feel any better thinking I've made you unhappy, or Edward. My sadness isn't going to go away by making everyone around me miserable."

Carlisle sighed, and then he was silent for a moment. "I keep wondering when you're going to get angry with me," he said at last. "Really, I mean it when I say you're entitled to that."

Esme stared at him, confused. "Why would I be angry with you?"

"Aside from the obvious?" Carlisle said sadly, nodding in her direction. Esme wasn't sure how she knew it, but she could feel his eyes focus on the faint bite mark on her neck.

She smiled slightly. "It wasn't as though I was in any condition to give you my permission. Besides, I don't mind being…this. That's not why I'm upset."

Carlisle nodded. "Would it help if…if you told me about your son?"

Esme considered this only for a moment, and then the words were spilling out of her, seemingly of their own volition. She told Carlisle all about her little boy, describing him in minute detail and all the while feeling relieved that she'd been able to hold on to a relatively clear picture of him, though the vivid image that her stronger, faster mind painted made her ache with longing to hold him, her tiny baby, whose face had been so cold and still when she'd seen him last.

By the time she reached the end—the story of her son's short life didn't take long to tell—she'd started to cry again. At first, she'd continued speaking, trying to control her voice, but by the end, she was sobbing once more, and without a word, Carlisle slid close enough to embrace her. Under normal circumstances, Esme would have been happy and embarrassed in equal measure to be so close to him, but for the moment, she was so wild with grief that the only thing she seemed capable of was resting her head against his shoulder and weeping.

When she could finally feel herself beginning to calm down, Esme asked Carlisle something that she'd been wondering about all morning, though it was a question that she was a bit afraid to hear the answer to.

"Could you have changed him too?" she whispered. "I mean, when you found me, I was almost dead. If you'd found him in the morgue…"

"No," Carlisle said quietly. "There needs to at least be a heartbeat for the change to happen." He was silent for a moment, but then he said something that surprised her. "But even if I could have changed him, I wouldn't have, Esme. Can you imagine anything worse than being an infant forever? Never aging, never growing or being able to control your thirst? It would be agonizing, I think, to always be so thirsty without being able to fully understand why, to know nothing but the desire for blood."

Esme shuddered at the very thought, but then she smiled up at him, suddenly hugely relieved. "You're right," she whispered. "I'm glad that at least he isn't that. For him, this would be worse than death."

"You'd love him anyway though," Carlisle said, his voice gentle.

Esme nodded. "I would. But hearing what it would have been like for him, how much he would have suffered…I'm glad you told me, and that he's not…like us."

"It's actually forbidden to create an immortal child," Carlisle said grimly. "They've invariably beloved by their creators, but they're impossible to control, and they can be terribly destructive."

Esme stared at him, feeling relieved all over again that her son hadn't suffered such a fate. "Who would do that to someone?"

Carlisle shrugged. "A person who loved a child so desperately that they weren't willing to let go. Someone who…didn't understand the consequences."

"You're right," she whispered at last, shivering a little. "I'm glad that I didn't know that there was an option other than death for him. I might have…wanted to have him changed, and then I would have regretted it."

Carlisle nodded. "Still, I'm sorry that he's gone, Esme."

Esme smiled wanly, enjoying this moment of closeness with Carlisle before, her paroxysm of grief over, her embarrassment inevitably returned. It was a relief to talk to him, and a relief to know that even though her son was gone, at least he wasn't an immortal monster. This new life, though full of grief so far, was for Esme a chance to have a future in which the horrors and heartaches of the past, while not forgotten, could be laid to rest, along with her little boy.


	99. Snack

Hi everyone! This week's chapter is a fun moment between Esme and Emmett set during his early years as a vampire. Hope you've had a great weekend—I'm looking forward to just watching TV and relaxing for a few more hours until I have to start getting ready for Monday. :) Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you next week with the one hundredth chapter of "Eternity"!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of "Twilight," and only 69 days until I can watch "Eclipse" whenever I want. :)

_1937_: Snack

Emmett's POV

There were three hours left before the school day was over, and Emmett felt like his throat was on fire. More than once, he'd considered asking to go to the bathroom and then leaving and going hunting, but he'd already missed too many classes lately. Emmett had only been back in school for a few months now, and though he hadn't slipped up yet (not that he was likely to have a chance, since he had Edward or Rose or both of them in all of his classes), there had been a lot of close calls. Hunting every day had helped, but now that he was no longer a newborn, Emmett was trying to hunt only every other day. Though he was proud to be making progress at resisting the temptation to hunt humans, it was a struggle to manage his thirst, particularly when he was trapped in a stuffy classroom crowded with humans, their hearts constantly pumping rich, thick blood through their veins…

Emmett shook his head. _Stop thinking about veins! _he told himself irritably, feeling Rosalie's eyes on him. She was sitting a few rows behind him on the other side of the class, and she was probably getting ready to drag him from the room, claiming that they both had a doctor's appointment or something. Their teachers were becoming increasingly skeptical of their excuses, and it bothered Emmett that because of him, all of the Cullens were attracting undue attention. Carlisle was forever writing notes to get him out of class, Esme called the school practically every other week to say that he was sick, and Rosalie and Edward were forced on an almost daily basis to skip class whenever he did, for fear that if he was left alone, he'd attack someone. Rather than being annoyed, Emmett appreciated his new family's concern; he'd messed up before, and he hated the idea of killing someone again because he couldn't control himself.

Time, everyone said, would improve his self-restraint. But Emmett was sick of waiting to get better at resisting, waiting to be less of a liability to the people he cared about. They'd probably have to move soon, for the second time since he'd been changed, and so Emmett sat in class and let his throat burn, trying to delay the inevitable moment when he'd have to leave the room, thus further exposing his family to suspicion.

Just then, a secretary entered the classroom and spoke to the teacher, Mr. Burke, who was writing an equation on the blackboard. Emmett sighed quietly when he heard his name.

"Mr. Cullen," Mr. Burke said wearily, "you're wanted in the office. Apparently, you forgot your history book at home, and your mother has been kind enough to bring it to you."

Emmett was careful to look chastened instead of surprised. Had he been a normal person, his classmates would have snickered at the news that his mom was waiting for him in the office, but even when he'd been human, he'd been too tall and imposing for other kids to want to risk laughing at. He could practically feel Rosalie smirking behind him though, and as he left the room, he grinned at her and winked. Rosalie rolled her eyes, and then Mr. Burke shut the door, giving Emmett a dirty look as he did so.

The school wasn't very large, so Emmett was at the door to the office in less than thirty seconds. Esme was waiting for him in the narrow corridor that served as the lobby, a book in her hand, but after she'd checked that no one in the office was watching them, she took Emmett's hand and pulled him out the main doors and down the steps.

"So what did you really bring me?" Emmett asked as she led him into a grove of trees across the road from the school.

"Not this book, obviously," Esme said, smiling as they stepped into the forest.

Emmett glanced at the title. "Yeah, that's an Italian-English dictionary. So what are we doing out here?"

Esme stopped walking and motioned to a tree a few steps ahead of them. "Go look."

Emmett raised his eyebrows, but he obediently walked to the tree she'd pointed to, grinning when the smell of what Esme had brought him hit his nose. Lying in a pile beneath a bush were three deer, freshly killed. Their necks were broken, but otherwise they were completely intact, and Emmett found that he was thirsty enough that, though not normally his favorite sort of prey, the scent of the still warm animals was enough to make his mouth water.

"If you hurry, they might still taste acceptable," Esme said, glancing at her watch. "And you might even be back in time for your next class."

Emmett eagerly consumed the rapidly cooling blood of the deer. As soon as Esme had stopped their hearts, their blood had stopped circulating, but she couldn't have killed them more than a few minutes before, because the blood still moved relatively easily through their bodies—Emmett knew from what his family had told him about the biology of prey that the longer you waited to feed after killing an animal, the more blood would begin to settle in its tissues, so it was best to drink as quickly as possible—as if Emmett had ever been able to help doing that.

"Where'd you get these?" Emmett asked when he'd finished the deer and Esme was helping him bury the carcasses.

"Here in the woods," Esme said. "I parked the car on Main Street a few hours ago, did some shopping and went to the library, and then I thought about how thirsty you looked when you left this morning. So, I decided to find something to tide you over until we all go hunting tonight. I don't think any more deer will be wandering into these woods again for a while though, so maybe wait a few weeks before you sneak out here and try to find some during lunch."

Emmett laughed. "That sounds a lot better than what we usually do at lunch, which is nothing, but okay, I'll wait a while before I try hunting here myself. The last time Rose and I came out here, all we found were possum and a few raccoons."

Esme shook her head. "There's a factory going up about a mile from here, and they've been cutting down trees since yesterday. I think that a lot of animals in the area are moving around, trying to get away from the noise and into safer territory."

Emmett grinned. "So, hunting should be fun tonight."

Esme nodded and smiled too. "Get back to school, Emmett, and later you can have as many nervous deer as you can catch."

Emmett laughed again, then leaned down and kissed Esme on the cheek. "Thanks for the snack, Mom."

Esme squeezed his hand. "We all know how hard you're trying, Emmett. Maybe next week I'll bring you something during lunch—Rosalie might like that too. You've both been so good about controlling yourselves that sometimes I forget how young you are."

"I really hope we won't be having this same conversation ten years from now," Emmett said, shaking his head. "Since, you know, I'm always going to be young, technically."

Esme laughed sympathetically. "But at least you won't always be quite so thirsty. Ten years from now, I won't have to sneak you out of school so you can drink a few deer."

"Good to know," Emmett said as they walked back toward the school, chuckling when he thought of what Rose would say when he told her about this. It was more than a little humiliating, being in such tenuous control of himself, though Emmett knew that all of the Cullens had been in his shoes before. More than feeling embarrassed though, it made him happy to think that as long as he needed her to, Esme would be willing to bring him the occasional snack.


	100. Different

Hi everyone! For the one hundredth chapter of "Eternity," here's a story set in Carlisle's early months as a vampire. (In it, I assume that though Carlisle didn't encounter the Volturi until the 18th century, he'd heard of them before that time). I really had a great time imagining this, so I hope you have fun reading it too. :) Thank you so much to everyone who reads and reviews "Eternity"—I'm always so happy to hear that people enjoy these stories, and since someone asked, don't worry, this isn't going to be the last chapter—I have too much fun writing these to stop. :) Thanks again for all your support of "Eternity," and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 62 days until I can watch "Eclipse" over and over, whenever I want! :)

_1663_: Different

Carlisle's POV

It was nearly midnight when Carlisle, who'd travelled London that night by jumping from chimney to chimney, landed on the peak of a roof just a few blocks away from his father's church. He hadn't come back here to see his father by any means—he knew that was impossible, and undesirable in any case—he could never let his father see him like this. But for the first time in nearly half a year, Carlisle felt under control enough to get close to humans.

Ever since the night he'd been bitten, he'd struggled against everything he knew about vampires—their appetites, specifically. And after months of painstaking practice in self-restraint, Carlisle was beginning to trust himself. He hunted often, and rarely felt as desperately thirsty as he had in the beginning; a few days before, he'd even spoken to a man at dusk while they both took shelter from a sudden storm under the eave of a tavern. And the man, who apparently hadn't noticed anything too disturbing about Carlisle, had walked away safely when the rain stopped. Carlisle hadn't felt the overpowering urge to kill that he'd known at the beginning of this strange new life, and that success had emboldened him to the point that he'd risked making this journey back to London. Earlier that night, he'd even jumped down into an alley and wandered the streets in a poorer part of town, where many were dressed in rags as he was, and he'd felt a powerful mixture of relief and new found confidence. His throat burned, yes, but he'd been a vampire for months and he still hadn't killed anyone. The blood of animals had sustained him so far, and Carlisle saw no reason that it couldn't always do so. He could live like this for years, centuries perhaps, without ever having to steal a human life to survive.

He'd hunted earlier that day, after lingering on the outskirts of the city for several hours—once he'd consumed the contents of four deer, he'd felt that he was safe enough to finally make his way into London proper—but now, when Carlisle spied a skinny rat racing down the gutter a few feet away, he lunged and caught it with one hand, snapped its neck, and started drinking without hesitation_. _

_A year ago, if I could have seen myself as I am now, I wouldn't have believed it,_ Carlisle thought grimly. _I wouldn't have wanted to believe that such a future was even possible. Still,_ he thought, the more practical side of his mind speaking up, as it often had since his misery at becoming a vampire had begun to fade, _better safe than sorry. And somehow, devouring a rat seems slightly less mortifying than scarfing down pigeons._

"You," a voice said, "are quite possibly the most pathetic looking thing I've ever seen."

Carlisle nearly fell off the roof—in fact, he was certain he would have, had it not been for the improved reflexes immortality had given him. An old woman was standing on top of the chimney jutting out of the next house over, staring at him. She was wearing a long blue dress, her long gray hair was blown back behind her by the wind…and her eyes were a deep, disturbing shade of red.

Carlisle had no idea how to react—since the night he'd been changed, he'd never met another vampire. Should he regard her as an enemy? But that seemed foolish—she was smaller and weaker than he was. It was only the strangeness of her that was threatening, as well as the fact that the last time he'd encountered a vampire, he'd died.

"Excuse me," Carlisle said finally. "I didn't mean to intrude."

The other vampire stared at him curiously. "You aren't intruding exactly, though your appearance _is_ offensive to the eyes. Speaking of which, what's wrong with yours?"

Carlisle stared at her. "My eyes?"

"Yes," the woman said, jumping onto the roof he was sitting on and stopping a few feet away, examining him carefully. "I've never seen one of us with yellow eyes before."

"They're yellow now?" Carlisle wondered. It had been months since he'd last examined his own reflection, and at the time, he'd been so disgusted by the sight of his blood red irises that he hadn't looked again. "I haven't…that is, they weren't the last time I checked."

"Strange," the woman said, still staring into his eyes. "Very strange. They're more gold than yellow, I suppose. Are you planning on getting some new clothes for yourself any time soon?"

"I don't have any money, so no, I don't think so," Carlisle said, not feeling embarrassed by the situation so much as resigned. He was a monster now—monsters didn't need money if they planned to live in the woods drinking the blood of animals for the rest of their days. And if he wanted to live among humans someday, to work or get an education…well, then he would find a way to pay for things like new clothes when the time came that he needed them.

"You don't need _money_, you silly boy," the woman said, pronouncing 'money' like an expletive. "Just steal some decent clothing for yourself."

"No thank you," Carlisle said quietly. "If I really need something, then I'll work for it."

The woman laughed suddenly, a surprising burst of noise that scared a nearby pair of pigeons from their roost. "_Work_?" She repeated incredulously. "Oh, you are strange, aren't you? And very young, I'll wager. How long have you been a vampire?"

Something in Carlisle recoiled at the word 'vampire' when the old woman said it—he'd known what he was for months, but it still pained him to be identified as a thing he'd once considered it his life's work to destroy.

"…about six months now," Carlisle said at last. Even to his own ears, he sounded depressed about it.

"Hmm," the old woman murmured. Carlisle noticed that she'd yet to stop staring at him—was he really so odd-looking? "Well, in the interest of not drawing quite so much attention to yourself, you'd better come with me. Those rags you're wearing aren't going to last much longer, and I think I have some clothes your size at home."

Carlisle hesitated—after spending six months as a solitary predator, he was reluctant to trust such sudden charity. "All right, but only if you're certain you can spare any. And I insist on paying you back as soon as I—"

"Oh, never mind that and follow me," the woman said impatiently, hopping off the roof and onto the ground in one fluid motion. "And get down from there. There are still a few drunks wandering about at this hour, and you don't want anyone seeing you perched up there."

Carlisle frowned, but leapt off the roof and landed beside her. "What does it matter if anyone sees me? I'm the one who's a danger to them, not the other way round."

The woman shook her head. "Wait till we get inside. It isn't in your best interest to talk about these things in public places, either."

Puzzled, Carlisle followed her up a narrow winding staircase inside a dingy building. The vampire apparently occupied a single room at the top of the house, the contents of which startled Carlisle after months of wandering the forests of Britain. There were clothes of every size and style imaginable. Cards with strange symbols cluttered one of three tables crammed into the tiny space, and on the others, there were books, more books than Carlisle had ever seen. There was no bed, but what looked like an old quilt covered the room's only window like a massive curtain.

"Here," the woman said, digging through a pile of clothing and tossing Carlisle a shirt and trousers. "Don't think to much about where I might have gotten these, just try them on."

Carlisle stared at her. "Now?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "You don't have anything I haven't seen before, son, but if you'd prefer, I'll turn my head until you've dressed."

"Thank you," Carlisle said, smiling a bit at the woman's frankness. "Do you mind if I ask what your name is?"

"My name _was_ Mary Fletcher when I was alive," the woman said dryly. "But now I change my name every few years, just to be safe. At present, you can address me as Liza."

"But what do you mean, Liza?" Carlisle asked. "If you didn't change your name, what would happen?"

"Well, people would start to notice that the strange old lady who lives on the top floor never seems to get any older," Liza explained. "They'd start to talk about me, and I'd have to move away before any of our kind heard that I was making a stir. When that happens, sometimes the Volturi step in and take care of the troublemaker before he or she can make too much of a spectacle of themselves."

Carlisle frowned. "The Volturi? Who are they?"

Liza looked shocked. "Didn't whoever made you warn you about them? Or at least explain to you how you're supposed to behave?"

"The one who made me…well, I don't think he did so intentionally," Carlisle said grimly. "I was chasing him—"

"Wait a moment, why in the devil were you chasing a vampire?" Liza demanded, looking incredulous. So Carlisle told her who he'd been when he was alive, how he'd become a vampire, and how he'd lived ever since that fateful night.

"Amazing," Liza said when he'd finished. They were both seated at one of the tables by then, and Carlisle was trying not to stare at all of the books in front of him. "You're even stranger than I thought. I've never heard of one of our kind refusing to kill humans. It's impressive, although frankly, you'll never catch me eating rats."

"Usually, I hunt deer," Carlisle said, trying not to sound defensive, but judging by the old woman's smirk, she wasn't fooled. "Anyway, how can you do it, Liza? You don't seem like someone who could kill people so callously."

"Being callous has nothing to do with it," the old woman said sternly. "When a cat kills a mouse, that isn't callous. It's survival. Besides, I don't just kill anyone. That's something you need to remember, if you ever decide to change your bizarre eating habits: be careful who you kill. Hunt the sort of people who are out this time of night—they're criminals, mostly, or street people without houses or families to go home to. You can even slip into a prison every now and then for a quick snack—just don't go so frequently that you attract attention. The Volturi don't want humans to know about us."

"Why not?" Carlisle wondered. "I knew that vampires existed when I was human, or at least I believed they did, and that knowledge didn't help me avoid getting caught by one. Quite the opposite, actually."

"The little mob you were leading just before you died could have hurt the one you were hunting though," Liza said grimly. "That's something else to keep in mind—we're immortal, but we're not indestructible. Fire can hurt us, though the only way to kill one of our kind is to tear them apart and burn every piece."

Carlisle started. "Have you seen that happen before?"

"A few times," Liza murmured. "Our kind will fight over territory. There are a lot of us in London because the hunting is so easy, and we can hunt frequently without drawing much attention to ourselves. The Volturi make sure that humans don't notice our territorial spats. That way, the hunting stays easy—if pigs understood that humans planned to slaughter them, they'd probably be harder to kill—you see? So the more secretive we are, the less we have to worry about people like you or your father chasing after us. People like your father especially."

Carlisle stared at Liza. "Did you…do you know him?"

"Years ago," Liza said with a shrug. "Before you were born. After my husband died, I started traveling with a minstrel show and telling fortunes—it was that or wander the streets of London, begging. I can't even remember now where the cards I used came from—suffice to say, I had no knack for telling fortunes, but I had gray hair and put on a convincing enough show that people started calling me a witch. If I told someone's fortune and they had a run of bad luck later, they'd blame me. So, eventually, someone told your father about the show, he denounced us in a sermon one Sunday, and the next thing we knew, our wagon went up in flames. The work of some faithful Anglican, I daresay."

Carlisle stared down at the table uncomfortably. "I'm sorry."

Liza snorted. "From the sound of it, you didn't exactly share his fire and brimstone brand of theology. And since you weren't even alive at the time, I'm willing to forgive you for your father's followers' actions."

Carlisle smiled. "Thank you. Is there anything else I need to know about being a vampire?"

"Well, don't go outside on a sunny day," Liza said. "Again, the Volturi don't appreciate that."

Carlisle nodded—he'd seen what the sun did to his skin. If a human ever saw him like that, they'd be sure to notice.

"And I suppose I should say that the Volturi probably aren't as frightening as I've made them out to be," Liza said grudgingly. "If it weren't for them, humans would be in a perpetual state of panic and our kind would hunt without any kind of restraint. It's thanks to the Volturi that this life isn't even more violent and chaotic than it already is."

Carlisle nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

They spent hours talking about vampires, and Carlisle learned more about his new life in one night than he might have learned in years on his own. Liza told him how she'd become a vampire—"The one who changed me told me afterward that I was the splitting image of her grandmother," she'd explained—and what it was like, living in London when you never had to sleep—she talked about going to plays and concerts, and having all the time in the world to read...

"Like to borrow a few books?" she offered, noticing the way he was trying not to stare. "You don't have to bring them back, honestly. It's very odd, being as old as I am and having a perfect memory."

"Thank you, Liza," Carlisle said, taking a few volumes with him when he prepared to leave not long before sunrise. "But I will bring them back. The next time I'm in town, I'll come to visit."

"You're not going to stay in London then?" she asked.

Carlisle shook his head. "I don't quite trust myself yet. It would be hard to stay inside during the day and listen to humans moving around in the streets while my throat burned."

"They do have a way of sounding very appetizing," Liza agreed. "Well, whenever you're back in town, come see me. I'll be interested to hear how you fare, living only on animal blood. From one vampire to another, I think it's the most foolish and unpleasant exercise in futility I've ever heard of, but still, I wish you all the best."

Carlisle smiled and shook hands with the old woman. "Thank you again, Liza. For the clothes, and books, and your advice."

As he scaled a gutter and began running across rooftops again, eager to get out of London before the sun rose, Carlisle found himself feeling more at ease than he had since he'd first opened his eyes on this new life. He wasn't like others of his kind—he'd suspected that before, and Liza had confirmed his assumptions, but he wasn't as alone in the world as he had been yesterday. Yes, they disagreed about prey, but in Liza, Carlisle had found a friend, and he saw now that he had nothing but time ahead of him: time to learn, to travel, and to find others like him, who were willing to exist without ending human lives. Somewhere, he was certain, he would find such creatures…someday.


	101. Ready

Hi everyone! This week's chapter consists mostly of a conversation between Esme and Bella about wedding plans (thus it takes place between "Eclipse" and "Breaking Dawn"—I can't believe that the first half of "Breaking "Dawn" is still over a year away, but I guess I'm just going to have to try to be patient...) Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you next Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I've already pre-ordered the "The Twilight Saga: Official Illustrated Guide"! :)

_2006_: Ready

Bella's POV

I was sitting in the living room at the Cullens' house with Alice, letting her paint my nails while I waited for Edward to come back from a quick hunting trip with Emmett and Jasper. It was a typically rainy day in Forks, and I was trying not to shudder when I thought of the wedding, which was just close enough for me to worry about, but still far enough away that I could pretend that it wasn't going to be as big a deal as Alice was likely to turn it into.

"Is it going to be sunny on…" I trailed off, not wanting to say the date, because that would lead to me doing the math and counting exactly how many days there were left between now and then. But since I was talking to Alice, she knew exactly what I was referring to just by the uneasy tone of my voice.

"It'll be partly sunny," Alice promised cheerfully. "It won't be raining, but it'll be cloudy enough that it will be safe for us to be outside. And there will be patches of clear sky now and then. Don't worry, it'll be a beautiful day."

I tried not to sigh. As if the weather really mattered—I was looking forward to being _married_ to Edward, but the part where we had to go through the whole marriage ceremony itself still made me nervous, and the more Alice told me about her preparations for the big day, the more tempted I was to tell Edward that I'd changed my mind and that we were going to Las Vegas. I wouldn't do that, of course. This whole wedding wasn't really about me, and Alice and the other Cullens all knew it—it was about giving my parents and human friends a chance to see me happy before I had to disappear forever, and consequently, the thought of how close the wedding was made me more than a little sad. That was why Alice never told me much about what she was planning unless I asked her directly.

Just then, Alice's phone buzzed. She released my hand and answered, then grinned at me.

"It's the caterer," she said, covering up the mouthpiece of the phone. "I'll be back in a bit—and don't move your hand yet, your nails aren't quite dry!"

I was still sitting on the couch, my hand and the rest of me staying very still, trying to take deep, calming breathes and not think about the word 'caterer' when Esme came downstairs and sat next to me, her expression sympathetic.

"Did I hear Alice talking to the florist?" she asked.

I stared at her. "There's a _florist_ too?" I said, and then I groaned when Esme nodded.

"She was talking to the caterer, actually," I said, staring down at my almost-dry nails. "I know that there are going to be a lot of humans coming, so I can accept a caterer, but a florist? It's not like Alice isn't amazing at decorating on her own."

"She just wants everything to be perfect," Esme said soothingly. "I know this all seems a bit over the top now, Bella, but someday, you'll look back on this and be glad that your friends and family have a day like this to remember you by, Charlie and Renée especially."

I sighed. "I was just thinking about that, actually. I am glad that they're going to get to see me really happy one more time before Edward changes me and I won't be able to see them anymore. I guess I just can't believe how close it is already."

Esme smiled sadly and gave me a quick hug. "I know you're sick of Edward asking you this, honey, but are you sure you're ready? To give up being human, I mean?"

An unexpected lump rose in my throat—Esme was such a mom that she couldn't help but remind me of my mom at moments like this. If Renée knew about the decision I was making, what would she say? I wasn't really sure that she would try to stop me, but I knew that she would ask me the same question Esme had.

"I'm sure," I said quietly. "I know that saying goodbye is going to be hard, but you know how much I've thought about this, and I'm sure now—I'm really ready. It's not just because I know everyone will be safer this way, either. There's no point in putting off what I know I want from the rest of my…not life, but the rest of my existence."

Esme sighed. "You know I'm tempted to be like Edward and try to convince you to wait a few more years, but if he can't convince you, I know I can't. Besides, you're right about it being safer for all of us, and I know that you've put a lot of thought into it. I just know how much Rosalie feels she missed out on, having her human life cut so short. None of us want you to have the same regrets someday."

"Were you ready, when Carlisle changed you?" I asked quietly.

Esme smiled, but her expression was sad again. "I was. But then, I wasn't just ready for my human life to be over—I _wanted_ it to be over. I couldn't imagine anything more painful than having to be human any longer, so…it was a blessing for me, to find out that I'd been changed into something else. Once Carlisle and I were married, I was sorry that we couldn't have children of our own, but adopting the way we have has made me happy. It isn't the same though."

I nodded. "I can sort of understand how Rosalie feels, and how you feel. But I wonder if it would have changed things if she'd been human and Emmett had been immortal when they'd met. Maybe someday I _will _wish that I'd waited, but right now, I'm tired of waiting. I just feel like the sooner I'm one of you, the better."

Esme's smile was more cheerful now. "We're all a bit worried now, honey, but I think that once you're changed, all of us really will be happier, you especially. It's going to be such a relief, having you be more durable."

I rolled my eyes. "The way you guys talk about how breakable I am, you'd think I was made of glass," I muttered. "Though I guess most humans aren't quite as accident-prone as I am."

Esme laughed. "Exactly. Immortality, if nothing else, will cure you of that."

I stared down at my fingernails and flexed my hand, now that the polish had dried. "The change…it really hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Esme said seriously. "We're hoping that with enough morphine, it won't be so bad for you, but there's no guarantee that it will work."

Hearing that was sort of a relief—Edward was always so quick to reassure me about this that I was happy to hear someone admit that it might really be as bad as I feared.

"This is going to sound really strange," I said slowly, meeting Esme's eyes again, "but a part of me is still more worried about the wedding than about becoming a vampire."

Esme laughed quietly. "I suppose you've had a lot more time to mentally prepare for that than you have for a wedding. Don't worry, though—we're all trying to make sure that Alice doesn't go _too_ overboard. "

"She's _still_ talking to the caterer about something though," I said, glancing nervously in the direction Alice had gone before disappearing. I tried to imagine how complicated feeding our wedding guests could possibly be, and then I decided that I didn't want to think about that, because that would involve considering just how many people were invited.

"It's a novelty for her, getting to have food at a wedding for once," Esme explained. "Well, sometimes there's been food, just for show, but this is the first time she's gotten to invite people who actually eat. She knows what she's doing though—this isn't the first wedding that Alice has planned, and it won't be the last, either," Esme said, shaking her head.

"What, are Emmett and Rosalie going to get married again soon?" I wondered.

"Probably," Esme said, looking a bit sheepish, "but, she also talked Carlisle and I into letting her plan our one hundredth anniversary."

I stared at her, somehow less shocked by the idea of a hundredth anniversary than the idea of Alice planning a celebration for one. "Wow. Okay, that makes me feel a little better. Our wedding's going to be tiny compared to that."

Esme nodded, looking slightly worried. "I'm afraid you may be right. We're actually going to get married again—Alice begged us, since she didn't get to see our first wedding. And then there's going to be a party…"

I laughed, realizing that Esme didn't really like parties much more than I did. "It was nice of you guys to let her do that—she's going to have a lot of fun planning everything."

Esme nodded, giving me a slightly evil smile. "For now though, _your_ wedding is more than enough to keep her occupied."

I groaned, but then instantly perked up when I heard the front door open.

"Hi," Esme said, and I could tell by her smile that it was Carlisle home from work, not Edward and the others back from hunting.

"Hi," Carlisle said," leaning down to kiss her. "Hello, Bella. Is everyone gone hunting?"

"Everyone but Alice, who's off somewhere talking to the caterer," Esme told him.

Carlisle obviously noticed my worried expression. "This too shall pass, Bella," he said kindly. "Who knows? You might even end up enjoying whatever food Alice makes arrangements for."

"That's possible," I said skeptically, "but I think I'll probably be too nervous to eat much of anything at the wedding." Then I couldn't help but smile. "Do you think there's going to be food at your one hundredth anniversary celebration?"

Esme laughed at Carlisle's startled expression, and then she patted his arm as he too began to smile reluctantly.

"Don't tell Alice," he said, looking at Esme, "but I'd marry you for every anniversary if we could get away with it without a huge fuss."

"She'd never let that happen," Esme said, standing up to kiss him. "Besides, celebrating by ourselves is a lot more fun."

I smiled at the thought of celebrating my hundredth anniversary with Edward—somehow, the thought wasn't as hard to comprehend as the fact that my wedding was just a few short weeks away. It felt like I was as ready as I'd ever be for immortality…but actually walking down the aisle was another story.


	102. Uncle

Hi everyone! Sorry I'm updating late—I had a harrowing exam last week from which I think I've finally recovered—and I hope you had a great weekend! Here's a chapter that focuses a bit on Jasper's relationship with Nessie, but more on him as a member of the Cullen family as a whole, and how Carlisle and Esme came to feel like parents to him. Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 47 days until "Eclipse" is out on DVD! :)

_2007_: Uncle

Jasper's POV

The rain was beginning to let up just as Jacob and most of his pack emerged from the woods. Nessie was riding on Jacob's back, the hood of her rain coat obscuring her face, but as Jasper watched them from the kitchen window, Nessie raised her head, met his eyes, and waved. Jasper smiled and waved back, and then he went back to the kitchen table where Alice was sitting with Carlisle and Esme, looking at photo albums.

"Nessie's back," he said. "And she brought her friends, so get ready for the whole house to smell like wet dog again."

"Jasper," Esme said, giving him a look that was more resigned than actually irritated. "Try to be nice."

Jasper shrugged, and when Alice grinned at him, he winked at her—it was basically understood now that the name calling that went on between the wolves and the Cullens was good natured…mostly. There was still a little distrust on either side—except where Jacob and Seth were concerned—and Jasper especially remained wary of the wolves. His years in Maria's army had made him more than a little cautious when it came to accepting former enemies as allies.

"Hi!" Nessie called, opening the door and stopping to take off her muddy boots and coat before racing into the kitchen to take a seat at the table.

"Aren't the boys coming in?" Esme asked. "I've got lasagna in the oven for them."

"They just need to put on clothes and then they'll come in," Nessie said, just as Jacob, Seth, Quil and Embry stepped inside.

"Wipe your feet please," Esme called. "And there are towels hanging by the door."

"Thanks, Esme," Jacob said, coming to sit down next to Nessie.

"What smells good?" Seth wondered, rubbing his wet hair with a towel.

"Lasagna, but it's not quite ready yet," Esme said, standing and pulling more chairs up to the table. "It needs to bake for a few more minutes, and then you can eat."

"Remember this?" Alice murmured, pointing to a photo in the album in front of her and grinning.

Jasper sighed. "Unfortunately."

"What's that?" Nessie wondered, pointing to a photograph that seemed to contain nothing but a large, badly twisted hunk of metal.

"This," Alice announced, "is a picture of Uncle Jasper's first car."

Jasper rolled his eyes. "Emmett took that picture. In my defense, I'd never driven before that day, so Emmett and Edward decided to teach me themselves. It didn't…go well."

"From what I've heard, the lesson went fine until you three decided to have a race," Carlisle said, obviously struggling not to smile.

"Again, that was Emmett's fault," Jasper said, smiling a little at Nessie's surprised expression.

"Did you at least _win_ the race?" she demanded.

"I won," Jasper said, "but I hit a patch of mud just past the finish line we drew across the dirt road. The car spun out, and then a tree stopped it before I could. We were on a back road, so at least it was easy to cover up."

"So what kind of car did you wreck anyway?" Quil asked. He and Embry were leaning over Nessie to look at the picture, and Jasper tried not to tense up at how close they were.

"It was a red 1950 Buick Roadmaster," Esme said, shaking her head at the memory. "It became my car after Edward asked for something faster for his birthday one year, and then I gave it to Alice and Jasper a few months after they came to live with us."

"Was Emmett in the other car?" Jacob asked, and Jasper could see that the car fan in Jacob was more interested in the cars involved in this story than the story itself. "What was he driving?"

"A Chevy Bel Air," Carlisle said. "Also the 1950 model."

"Aren't those, like, _ridiculously_ big cars to try and race in?" Embry asked.

"That was essentially my reaction when I first heard this story," Carlisle said, chuckling. "Apparently, it was one of those things that seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Were grandma and grandpa mad?" Nessie whispered, glancing at Carlisle and Esme. "I can't really imagine them being angry, but if something like that happened..."

"They weren't," Alice said, glancing at Jasper. "At least, not at Jasper."

"Emmett got a lecture, and Rosalie wasn't thrilled that Emmett had had such a stupid idea," Jasper said with a smile, "but mostly, grandma and grandpa were just glad that no one saw us and that we were able to hide what was left of the car."

"What was the first car you ever drove?" Jacob asked, looking at Alice now.

"A white 1953 Chevy Corvette," Alice said, smiling at the memory. "And it was Rosalie's car—she _loved_ it—so when she taught me to drive in it, I was extremely careful."

"That was the one with the red upholstery, wasn't it?" Esme said, glancing at Alice as she pulled plates out of a cupboard. "If you wanted to ride in that car, first you had to prove to Rose that your hands, shoes, and clothing were all immaculately clean."

"Here's a picture," Carlisle said, flipping through the photo album he'd been looking at with Esme until he reached a photo of Emmett and Rosalie, standing arm in arm in front of a small white convertible.

"Wow," Quil muttered, shaking his head. "I've seen pictures of this car before. I probably would have been paranoid about keeping it clean too."

"You have a crappy car now, but you're still paranoid about keeping it clean," Embry pointed out, ducking when Quil tried to punch him.

"Hey, lunch is ready, so play nicely and come get some lasagna," Esme said, pulling a dish out of the oven, then cutting huge portions and setting them on plates. While the wolves were focused on the food, Nessie was looking at the photo album that Alice had been holding a few moments before, staring at the wreck of the Buick again.

"I still can't believe grandma and grandpa weren't mad at you," she said, looking up at Jasper.

"Neither could I," Jasper said, glancing at Carlisle and Esme. "I figured they'd disown me on the spot."

But they hadn't. It had been one of the biggest surprises of Jasper's life, when, following the ill-fated race with Emmett, Carlisle and Esme hadn't even raised their voices when they told him to be more careful in the future. He'd expected them to be angry at least, but instead they'd accepted the destruction of a car as something to be expected with five vampire children. It was then that Jasper had, for the first time, truly felt like their son. It wasn't just because they'd forgiven him for making a mistake—rather, they expected that he'd make mistakes, lots of them, and yet they cared about him anyway—they cared enough to forgive him every time he did something that he wished he hadn't, whether that was wrecking a car or slipping and killing a human, try as he might to resist his thirst.

"Jasper, if we disowned a child every time they destroyed a car, we wouldn't have any children at all," Esme said, laughing.

"Edward still insists that he's a perfect driver," Alice said, raising her eyebrows.

Carlisle shook his head. "He's never totally wrecked a vehicle, but when he was first learning to drive, he destroyed virtually every part of that car, one piece at a time, before he got the hang of it. That was a 1917 Jeffrey though—I'd put a lot of miles on it by the time I found Edward, and it wasn't exactly in perfect shape—maybe it _was_ a bit too delicate for a newborn to learn in."

"I think that virtually _every_ car's too delicate for a newborn," Esme said, shuddering at some memory. "I hated learning to drive at first—I was always afraid that I was going to break something." Then she smiled at Carlisle. "Though when I did, at least you were kind enough not to make fun of me."

"I heard your Mom almost ripped the steering wheel off her new car the first time she drove it," Jacob said, grinning at Nessie.

Nessie rolled her eyes. "She did not. Who told you that, Emmett? Mom's really good at all the newborn stuff—Uncle Emmett just teases her because she's so much stronger than him."

As if she'd heard her name, Bella came into the kitchen and leaned on the back of Nessie's chair, looking tired. As far as Jasper knew, she'd been on the phone with her mother ever since she'd called from Florida a few hours before.

"Are you _finally_ off the phone with grandma?" Nessie asked.

Bella nodded. "Grandma Renée really likes to talk," she explained. "This morning, she was interrogating me about my mystery illness—she's been checking out medical books from the library, trying to figure out what was wrong with me this past summer."

Carlisle looked slightly uneasy now too. "Does she—"

"I told her you were at work, so she isn't going to ask to compare notes on diseases with you today," Bella said reassuringly. "Unfortunately, she heard Edward playing the piano in the background while we talked, so now she's interrogating him." Looking down at Nessie, Bella smiled. "Want to go hunting while Dad talks to grandma?"

"Sure!" Nessie said eagerly—though not quite as ravenous as Bella, since she was a growing child after all, Nessie always seemed to be hungry.

"Be back in a few," Bella said, waving to everyone and heading for the back door.

"Bye!" Nessie called, following Bella after bestowing a kiss on the cheek to her grandparents, aunt and uncle, and Jacob, and then she waved to the rest of the wolves and left, holding her mother's hand. Jasper shook his head as the door shut behind them—Nessie had only been alive a few months now, but he guessed that it would always feel impossibly strange to be kissed by his niece. After over fifty years with them, there were still times when he could barely comprehend that he was really a Cullen, really a member of a family. He had always belonged to Alice, had known that since the moment he'd met her, and being her husband never seemed very strange. But it was something else to be a son, and an uncle now too. Looking at the photo albums still laying on the table, Jasper smiled at Alice, wondering what future photographs would record about their lives—he knew that if he asked her, she would only smile mysteriously, playing the fickle psychic, and say, "Wait and see."


	103. Newlyweds

Hi everyone! This week's chapter is just a fun quick look at Carlisle and Esme in the early days of their marriage, and how Edward would have to adjust to their constant thoughts about each other. Thank you so much for all your great reviews, and I'll be back next week with a special Halloween chapter!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 41 more days until "Eclipse" is out on DVD!

_1921_: Newlyweds

Edward's POV

It was almost dawn, and Esme was impatiently straightening things in the living room, trying not to look out the window every few seconds to see if she might spot Carlisle's car coming down the driveway before she heard it coming.

"Esme," I said, hoping that my tone didn't betray any impatience, "rearranging the contents of the house isn't going to make him get home any faster."

"You're right," Esme said apologetically, sitting down in the chair across from me. "I'm sorry, I just…" She trailed off, and suddenly I could hear Esme thinking very hard about curtains—_what size, color and pattern would look best in the kitchen? And maybe I should think about replacing the sofa in Carlisle's study sometime—it's been broken since—oh, I'm sorry, Edward! _

I sighed. "I know you're trying," I said gently, "and I appreciate it."

Ever since Carlisle and Esme had returned from their honeymoon, life with them had been…well, it was hard to describe. On the one hand, I enjoyed seeing both of them so happy, and the awkwardness that had often made our home an uncomfortable place before Carlisle had finally proposed had disappeared. On the other hand, the newfound closeness between my parents had created a new kind of awkwardness in our household—it was particularly difficult for Esme, who I spent between ten and twelve hours alone with each night while Carlisle was at work, to resist thinking about my father completely every time he left the house. (Carlisle, I suspected, thought of Esme virtually constantly whenever I wasn't around to hear).

Esme's thoughts of Carlisle had once had a half hopeful, half hopeless quality, and for the first few months of her life with us, her thoughts had only bothered me because she'd been so completely, foolishly convinced that her attraction for Carlisle was unrequited. Now that she knew better, her thoughts posed a different difficulty for me: specifically, they contained far more details of Carlisle's anatomy than I had any desire to know. Esme really did try not to think about Carlisle, and when her attempts to distract herself from things she wanted to think about failed, I in turn tried not to hear the specifics of what she and Carlisle did when they were alone. These days, I sat at my piano more frequently than ever before. I tried reading, but music was far better than mere words on a page for drowning out my parents' amorous thoughts.

"I really do want to get some new curtains," Esme said, still struggling to think of something other than Carlisle, and how much time remained before he returned home. "Maybe we can all go town together this weekend. And tomorrow night, I think I'm going to dig a new flower bed. That way, you won't have to hear me all night, and you'll have a chance to study for a change."

I sighed again. "I don't want you to feel like you have to leave the house, Esme. Honestly, it's nice to hear how happy you are."

Esme smiled sheepishly. "It's just…I wish I could keep from thinking about…some of the details of why I'm so happy."

Much to my relief, Esme was thinking about the Latin names of her favorite flowers rather than the aforementioned details.

"Carlisle isn't much better about it than you are, really," I said, trying to think of something encouraging to say. "He just has the advantage of being away from me more than you are—when he's at work, he can think about you whenever he likes."

This was the wrong thing to say. Now Esme was struggling not to think about what Carlisle might be thinking about her. Rolling my eyes, I moved silently to the piano and began a brisk tune—lately, I 'd learned to avoid playing anything romantic when either of my parents were present.

_Thank you, Edward_, Esme said, her embarrassment starting to subside. Not for the first time, I wished that I was able to control my gift—Carlisle and Esme deserved far more privacy than I was able to give them, and though both of them felt guilty for the things I had to hear unwillingly, I in turn regretted the fact that they had to work so hard to conceal their thoughts from me. The need to hide what should have been the private corners of their minds from me was the only thing marring their present happiness, and I hated the feeling of eavesdropping, never mind that I did so involuntarily.

A few songs later, we finally heard the sound of a car moving up the driveway. Esme stood up, unable to keep from grinning, and though she refrained from racing outside to meet Carlisle in the garage, she opened the front door and they kissed briefly on the doorstep before coming inside together, Carlisle grinning as widely as Esme was.

_This_, Carlisle was thinking, looking at Esme and then smiling at me too, _was well worth the wait. A family…my family._

I rolled my eyes, and Carlisle smiled apologetically—it made me sad, and more than a little irritated, that Carlisle had been alone for as long as he had, and even now could barely believe his good fortune at having a wife and son. Though attachments between our kind were arguably stronger than those between humans, it was still amazing to me that Carlisle, kind and generous as he was, had spent so many years leading a solitary existence. Despite my bad behavior as a newborn, Carlisle had always been grateful to know me, and since Esme had come into our lives, his gratitude at belonging to a family—a thing most people took for granted—had increased to the point that it would have been almost ridiculous if his devotion to us hadn't been so touching. Given the way I'd acted when I was a newborn, Carlisle's happiness now made me feel more than a little guilty—most people would have barely been able to tolerate me in the tempestuous early months of my life as a vampire, but the fact that Carlisle had always been thankful for my presence, and that now, he really didn't seem to mind the way my gift was forever infringing on his privacy, made me wish that I could be even half as forgiving as he was.

"So," he said, smiling easily, "did the two of you have a good evening?"

I smiled in return. "Yes, it was nice and quiet."

Esme silently thanked me for not mentioning anything I'd overheard, as if I would—it was easier to pretend that I'd simply played the piano and read all night rather than having struggled to try and ignore her thoughts, but I heard that Carlisle still guessed what had happened. He put his arm around Esme, and then they both tried to think of other things—medical journals and architecture books respectively—while we all went into the living room together.

Carlisle and Esme sat on the sofa, and the three of us talked for a few minutes before I left the house—ever since they'd returned from their honeymoon, I'd taken to doing my correspondence school work at the public library, where, so long as I could find an unoccupied table in a quiet corner of the building, I could read and study in relative peace, and also give Carlisle and Esme at least a few hours alone every day. Both my parents hid their impatience very well—they wanted to go up to their room and spend the day as they usually did when I was out of the house, but Carlisle especially felt bad that he'd spent so little time with me of late, and that the times we had been together, he'd been so distracted. For my part, I was just happy to see Carlisle so much more content than he'd been when I'd first met him nearly four years before.

"I'll see you later, then," I said, waving to them both as I left the house, my books under my arm and a jacket on, worn for the sake of the humans who might see me walking on this chilly morning. Carlisle and Esme were kissing, and he was carrying her up the stairs before I'd even closed the door all the way behind me. I was sorry that, because of me, their happiness was imperfect, but I was also glad to at least be on the periphery of their joy. In the beginning of my new life, I'd hated everything about this existence, and I hadn't been able to even begin to imagine that things would ever be the way they were now: that I would have parents again, that I would be able to go to school and think about the future again. It was still not a life that I could always bring myself to relish, but it was at least something like the life I'd lost. Though I often heard too many details, my parents' happiness was contagious: for the first time in years, I felt truly optimistic that there were some things I might look forward to in this life. With Carlisle and Esme full of the bliss of newlyweds, I couldn't help but feel a bit better about my own future.


	104. Party

Happy Halloween, everybody! Here's a chapter about Halloween at the Cullens' house. :) Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you next Sunday! (Next Sunday, by the way, there's a Twilight spoof on the Simpsons' Halloween Special—maybe you knew this already, but it drives me nuts that we don't get to see it until a week _after_ Halloween! Oh well…)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of "Twilight," and only 34 days until "Eclipse" is out on DVD! :)

_2007_: Party

Jacob's POV

I was standing in the Cullens' living room, watching people get eaten by zombies on the big screen in the living room, while I waited for Nessie to get back from trick-or-treating with Charlie. I was sort of surprised that no one in Forks seemed to think that the sudden appearance of Charlie's "niece" wasn't weird, since he'd never mentioned having any siblings before, but Bella told me that Charlie had been telling people that Nessie was actually his cousin's daughter, and that it was easiest to just call her his niece. That made sense, kind of, though it was a pretty lame explanation on the whole. What I secretly thought was that a lot of people must think that Nessie was really Charlie's kid, given the resemblance between them, but I wasn't about to suggest this possibility to Bella—she was almost out of the crazy newborn stage, but I like _not _having broken bones, so I wasn't going to take any chances. (Besides, when Nessie was grown up a few years from now, there would be plenty of time to irritate Bella with the fact that she looks more like Nessie's older sister than her mother).

Someone on the TV screamed, and everybody in the living room laughed—vampires and werewolves are, I guess predictably, hard to scare, and bad special effects and cheesy fake blood somehow just seem even more hilarious than usual when you're surrounded by actual supernatural creatures. Technically, this was a Halloween party, with all the Cullens and both my pack and Sam's in attendance, but no one was dancing or bobbing for apples or whatever—we were all just hanging out, enjoying the truce between our two families by watching scary movies together. After all, it was more fun watching a movie on the Cullens' huge TV than driving all the way to Port Angeles to see a stupid horror movie. Alice had decorated the house for Halloween too, pulling out all the stops: she'd carved dozens of pumpkins, she'd hung strings of lights shaped like candy corn, pumpkins, skulls, and other Halloween stuff, and all the lights were out except for a few black light bulbs that she'd placed in lamps. The overall affect was definitely creepy—from the outside, the house looked like a huge jack'o'lantern, and once you got inside, you could hear one of those freaky Halloween sound effects tapes playing quietly in the background. For once, the place actually looked like vampires lived there.

About halfway through the movie, I noticed that Carlisle and Esme, who'd been sharing an armchair, had disappeared. Now Seth was sitting in the chair instead, polishing off a huge bag of mini Snickers bars. I nudged Alice, who was sitting next to me, and pointed to the chair. "Those guys don't like horror movies, huh?"

"Not particularly," Alice said with a shrug. "I guess that they've both seen enough real scary stuff in their lives that they aren't interested in watching fake stuff for entertainment."

I frowned. "That's…sad. I guess I don't really like to think about how many terrible things you'd see in the space of a few hundred years."

Alice shrugged again. "Well, as far as we know, Nessie's going to be immortal as soon as she reaches adulthood, so you're going to have a lot of time to adjust to living forever. Besides, it's not like there aren't plenty of things you can do to enjoy immortality. Carlisle and Esme, for example, are alone upstairs now, so they're—"

"Okay, I really don't want to think about that!" I said quickly, and Alice laughed as I stuffed some chips in my mouth, trying to hide my embarrassment and uneasiness at the idea of living for hundreds of years—she was right though, at least I had plenty of time to get used to the idea. I was also trying to get used to the idea of living in a house full of married vampires, none of whom could keep their hands off their respective spouses. Even now, Jasper had his arm around Alice, and Emmett was sharing a chair with Rosalie, who was also snickering at my mortified expression.

"The rest of us like Halloween, you know," she said, and I was relieved that, for once, Blondie was actually helping me by changing the subject instead of taking maximum advantage of my discomfort. "It's fun watching bad movies and making fun of the humans for being so stupid. Honestly, who goes into a house where they suspect a murderer is hiding and calls, 'Hello?' Why not just go in and say, 'Hello, if there's someone here who wants to kill me, here I am!' It's ridiculous."

"Just once, they need to make a movie where you've got someone who takes down one of these guys like Jason or Michael Myers," Emmett said, grinning. "What the hell are they supposed to be, anyway? They're so evil that they can never die? It makes no sense at all."

"They're like vampires, since they don't die, they're freaky strong, and they love to kill things," Paul said, smirking at Emmett. "Maybe a werewolf should finally get to finish those freaks."

"Yeah, that wouldn't happen," Rosalie said dismissively. "You'd get slashed along with all the other humans."

Just then, Bella and Edward came in with Nessie, who was dressed as a witch and asleep in Edward's arms, and I relaxed, glad that I didn't have to help break up a fight between Paul and Emmett, or Paul and Rosalie.

"Here," Bella said, tossing me Nessie's plastic pumpkin pail. "She's not interested in any of the candy she got, but she had fun with Charlie."

"I thought you guys weren't going with them," Seth said.

Edward shrugged. "We sort of…followed them at a safe distance."

"What, to make sure they were safe?" Alice said, sounding exasperated. "I told you she'd be fine—this is Forks, remember?"

"Yeah, I was really safe when I was human in Forks," Bella said grimly. "And since Nessie's half human, I always worry that she might have inherited some of my bad luck."

"Jeez, overprotective much?" I muttered, but I was stuffing my face with candy, so I wasn't sure that anyone understood me.

"It's not like anyone saw us," Bella said defensively. "It was way too dark and we moved to fast for anyone to catch us."

"At least now you understand why I had a hard time letting you out of my sight when you were human," Edward murmured, kissing Bella on the forehead. I rolled my eyes—Nessie looked pretty vulnerable, sure, given her size and the fact that she was currently asleep, but I had a bit more confidence in her than her parents did. She was way tougher than any human, and at least as strong as me already, so I didn't worry about her much. At least, I tried not too—though if I told myself the truth, the only reason I'd stayed home tonight instead of stalking Nessie with Edward and Bella was that Alice had forbidden me to go with them. That way, she'd explained, she'd be able to see trouble coming if there really was anything out there in the dark to worry about.

Obviously, Esme had heard Bella and Edward come in, because she suddenly came downstairs (fully clothed, much to my relief), a camera in hand.

"Sorry, but I didn't get a picture of her earlier," Esme whispered, and Edward and Bella smiled as the camera flashed. Nessie stirred a little in the sudden bright light, but then she relaxed against Edward's shoulder again.

"She looks so cute!" Esme whispered, kissing Nessie on the cheek, and Carlisle appeared behind her, grinning.

"Was it Nessie's idea to dress up like that?" he asked.

"I helped her pick out the costume," Alice announced, nodding approvingly at the black dress and pointy hat. "She actually wanted to be a vampire—as in, plastic fangs and a cape—but I told her that that might make Grandpa Charlie nervous."

"Good call," I said, swallowing a final piece of candy—the last thing Charlie needed in his life was a reminder of how weird his reality had become in the past year.

Edward and Bella said goodnight a few minutes later, and since the credits were rolling on the movie we'd been watching, Emmett suggested we watch something else.

"Sure," Sam said from his place on the couch with Emily. His pack, and most of mine, were all headed to the kitchen for more snacks. "I think it's safe to say that we'll be here until you guys run out of food."

"Esme," I said quietly, just as she and Carlisle were headed back upstairs. "Can you print me off a copy of that picture?" I already had a ton of pictures of Nessie, sure, but this was her first real Halloween—last year, we'd been so worried about real scary stuff that we hadn't had time for the fun, pretend kind of horror.

Esme smiled. "Of course, Jacob. I'll have it for you tomorrow at breakfast, since I assume you're staying over tonight—how do pancakes sound?"

"Great," I said, grinning—Edward and Bella tried not to be openly hostile, but Carlisle and Esme were easily the most tolerant members of the Cullen family when it came to the whole imprinting thing.

"It's a school night," Carlisle pointed out, giving me an appraising look. "Don't you have homework?"

"Um," I said, scrambling to think of something better to say. "Only a little—I mean, I've got a test, but that's not till afternoon, so I can study at lunch."

"Do that, please," Esme said, shaking her head at me. "I don't want Billy thinking we're a bad influence on you."

"Sure," I said, opening a fresh bottle of pop and trying to look contrite. "See you tomorrow, then." (_Please don't ask me anything else about school-just go back upstairs, even though I don't want to think about what you're doing up there,_ I was thinking).

"Good night, Jacob," Carlisle said, and I was glad that they were both more eager to have some alone time than they were to continue interrogating me about homework.

"Okay, since we've agreed not to watch anything with vampires or werewolves in it, how about more zombies?" Emmett said, holding up a stack of DVDs.

I grinned. This wasn't exactly the most exciting party in the world, but it was fun, in a weird way, just to hang out. There was plenty of junk food to eat, tomorrow was a Friday (and if I stayed up all night watching movies, I'd probably end up sleeping through most of the school day), and unlike last year, no one was trying to kill us. All in all, this was a pretty good Halloween.


	105. Silent

Hi everyone! This week's chapter is set a few months before Carlisle finds Esme in Ashland, and how he might have tried to conceal his thoughts from Edward at times, especially in the early years of their relationship. Thank you so much for all your great reviews, and I'll be back again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ohmygosh, I can't wait to watch "Eclipse" on DVD! :)

_1920_: Silent

Carlisle's POV

It was November, and as Carlisle plunged into Lake Superior, he knew that he only had another week or so before the water began to freeze and he would have to give up swimming again until spring. Even now, it was risky to do this—people rarely swam in Lake Superior, which stayed cold even in the middle of the summer, but the weather was so bad today—windy with something between rain and sleet falling heavily out of the clouds above—that Carlisle doubted that anyone would spot him, particularly if he stayed beneath the surface of the waves.

Though the cold would have killed a human within minutes, the frigid temperature didn't bother Carlisle, and he enjoyed the quiet that swimming beneath the dark waves afforded him. Things between he and Edward had improved since they'd moved to Ashland, but some days, Carlisle knew that rather than try to reach out to his son or interpret his stony silences, it was best to give Edward some time to himself. After he'd gotten home on this particular afternoon, he'd found Edward at the piano, brooding over some new sheet music that was proving difficult to learn. This was unusual, given Edward's talent and the usual speed with which he mastered new pieces, and Edward seemed to be irritated and pleased in equal measure by the unexpected challenge that the music posed.

To give him some peace, Carlisle had announced that he was going for a swim before leaving the house, a towel and thick coat in hand, and running the few miles to the lake. He'd found a deserted stretch of beach, and after double-checking that there were really no humans in sight, he'd concealed his coat, removed his shoes, and walked into the surf. Carlisle's theory was that if he swam fully clothed, if any humans _did_ spot him, he could at least claim that he'd fallen out of a boat, thereby attracting less suspicion than he would if he admitted that he'd been swimming recreationally.

Beneath the waves, which were only a few feet high, Carlisle swam slowly through the frigid water. Lake Superior was extremely deep, and Carlisle knew that below him, the remains of ships wrecked in storms similar to today's were moldering, along with the remains of many sailors. Living so close to such a body of water reminded Carlisle of all the times he'd lived close to various oceans, and Ashland's shipping industry actually rivaled some ocean ports he'd seen. Since they'd moved here, Carlisle had thought a great deal of where he and Edward might move next, and when; perhaps in a few more years, Edward might like to try attending college in person.

So far, Edward had enjoyed the books he was reading to prepare for the correspondence school courses he wanted to take after he finished high school, but whenever he was ready, Carlisle wanted Edward to have the chance to enjoy the atmosphere of college. Whether he wanted to attend a small state school, something Ivy League, or a school in Europe, Carlisle would be happy to move wherever Edward liked. In the past two years, doing whatever he could to help Edward enjoy this life as much as he could had become Carlisle's favorite pursuit.

It was difficult at times—though why wouldn't it be—hadn't he been miserable for most of his own newborn years? But whenever he could do something to promote Edward's happiness, Carlisle was happy too. Edward's bad moods, his at times argumentative nature, and his longing for the human life he'd lost didn't bother Carlisle, since he had little doubt that he would have felt much as Edward did if the vampire that had changed him so many years ago had tried to befriend him after the fact. Under the circumstances, Carlisle thought that Edward was far more forgiving than he gave himself credit for. And when Edward was happy, he made an excellent companion—intelligent and curious, Edward's contributions to a conversation were always interesting, and his aptitude for everything he tried, whether it was chess, the study of physics, or understanding the workings of an automobile, made Carlisle intensely proud of the boy who he'd quickly come to see as more of a son than a mere friend and housemate. After so many years of relative solitude, Carlisle was continually surprised at what a joy it was to have someone to share knowledge, interests, and experiences with.

In spite of his gratitude however, when he was honest with himself, Carlisle could admit that there were memories of some experiences that he worked to conceal from Edward. It was only when he was alone, as he was now, somewhere near the middle of Lake Superior, that he indulged in thoughts of Esme, a girl he'd met years before. He tried not to think of her by name—he didn't want Edward to hear about Esme, and their brief but memorable encounter nearly a decade ago, because he barely understood it himself. It still shocked Carlisle a little that he should have been so drawn to her at the time, and that even now, he still thought of her so frequently, provided that he was away from Edward. She had been a patient like so many others he'd met over the years, and yet something about her…the way she'd made him feel, more than anything else, had made her unforgettable.

It was strange, and at times a bit unpleasant, to acknowledge what he felt for Esme. For one thing, it was more than a little irrational to think himself in love with a woman who'd been little more than a girl when he'd met her ten years before, and Carlisle knew, without a doubt, that distancing himself from her as quickly and determinedly as he had had been the right thing to do. Still, with every year that passed, Carlisle couldn't help but wonder, a bit uneasily, where she was, and what her life was like now. She was certainly better off for his staying away from her—he imagined that she would be at best frightened, and at worst disgusted, if she had any idea that there was a vampire out there somewhere who was in love with her.

Carlisle surfaced then—though he didn't need air, it always disconcerted him a bit to go more than an hour without breathing.

_"_Esme," he said quietly, savoring the name as he always did before he went back to trying to forget it. Carlisle had considered telling Edward about her before, but had quickly dismissed the idea—if he himself was unnerved by his attraction to Esme, he could only imagine Edward's reaction to his fixation on the woman.

_ Someday, she'll die_, Carlisle thought sadly, staring out at the dark water around him. He knew it was better, only natural really, that she should live her life, grow to a certain age, and then die, but as time went on, Carlisle found that his attempts to stifle his feelings for Esme were becoming increasingly futile. He knew it was wrong, that no good would come of it…but he wanted to see her. If he knew that she was well, that her life was proceeding comfortably and that she was happy…then would he be able to forget her? Did he really want to?

With a sigh, Carlisle turned and began swimming toward home. He imagined telling Edward that he wanted to find Esme and check up on her, and then immediately dismissed this idea as ridiculous. If he said anything, Edward would only tell him what he already knew: he shouldn't go looking for her. He should leave her alone, for her sake and his own. Edward too would only be made unhappy if Carlisle pursued the quixotic goal of finding Esme, and now that Edward was just starting to come to terms with this life, the last thing Carlisle wanted to do was disrupt the new found peace and friendship that had grown up between them. No, it was better not to say anything. He would continue to keep all thoughts of Esme to himself, thinking of her only when he was sure that he was alone, and when he was with Edward, he would say nothing about the matter. Keeping silent, while not the most appealing option, seemed to be the only thing that would keep all of them safe and happy.


	106. Cruel

Hi everybody! This week's chapter is a bit short—it's getting to that point in the semester when everything seems to be due…so, here's a quick one about Carlisle and Esme after the battle in "Eclipse." I loved how in the movie, Esme was the one to speak up on Bree's behalf, and in this chapter, Esme considers the Volturi's actions after Bree's death. Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm excited to see Harry Potter next week...but I think I'm still even more excited about "Eclipse" being out on DVD in less than three weeks! :)

_2006_: Cruel

Esme's POV

Just hours ago, weeks of worry had culminated in a violent battle, the true end of which was the departure of the Volturi, who had vanished into the woods within moments of Felix's execution of Bree. Poor Bree. Esme had started by simply feeling sorry for the girl, but now that she and Carlisle were home again, alone in their bedroom and secure in the knowledge that all their children were safe, Esme was livid.

"How…how could they?" she demanded. "That poor girl didn't choose this! She wouldn't have hurt anyone, she didn't even try to attack us or the Volturi, but they still…they…" Then Esme felt her anger dissolving, and she started to cry, the horrible sound of Bree's final scream as Felix crushed her, broke her, still echoing in her ears.

Carlisle didn't say anything, and even as she cried, Esme was glad that he'd known her long enough to understand that trying to say something comforting when there was no comfort to be had wouldn't help things. Instead, he simply sat down on the bed beside her and wrapped his arms around her, and after a few minutes, she was quiet, though still lost in thought about Bree.

"I just don't understand," Esme whispered miserably. "They're supposed to be…"

"Justice," Carlisle said quietly. "That's what they're supposed to be, I think. But the Volturi have their own ideas of what justice entails."

"Killing children isn't just," Esme said sadly, looking up at him. "How…how did you ever live with them?"

As soon as she'd spoken, Esme was grateful again that Carlisle knew her so well—rather than taking offense at her question, he simply looked thoughtful.

"I think that most of the time, I appreciated their laws because I didn't see them administered firsthand. As abstract concepts, they seemed suited to maintaining order among immortals. I saw the Volturi as the only thing standing between the world I knew and a world that was even more violent and uncertain than anyone could imagine. Even when I disagreed with Aro on other matters, I agreed with the importance of keeping the existence of our kind a secret…but I finally left when I realized that there were times, times like now, that the ends didn't justify the means."

Esme considered this and nodded. "Until Edward went to Italy, I suppose I never gave much thought to the darker side of the Volturi. I worried about them learning too much about Edward or Alice or Jasper, but I suppose I always considered them a sort of…necessary evil. Even after today…well, as angry as I am, I still have to admit that without them, the world would almost certainly be an even more brutal and chaotic place than it already is."

Carlisle sighed. "Jane though…"

Esme suddenly found herself grinding her teeth as she pictured that horrible, angelic looking little girl, torturing Bree and smiling while she did it. "I never thought that I could sincerely hate any child."

"Jane hasn't been a child for a long time," Carlisle said heavily, hugging her more tightly. "And anyway, with a gift like hers, it's not surprising that Aro's been able to shape her into what she is now."

"A monster," Esme said quietly. "I wonder what she was like when she was human—it's so hard to picture Jane and Alec as someone's children once." Then Esme frowned. "The same goes for Felix."

"Like Jane, he enjoys his work," Carlisle said grimly, "but again, Aro was the one who molded him into what he's become." Carlisle paused, his expression unhappy. "Ever since Alice and Bella brought Edward home from Volterra, I've been trying to understand how I ever could have considered Aro a friend."

Esme bit her lip, then pulled on Carlisle's arm until they were both lying back on the bed. "You didn't really have anyone else," she said sadly, brushing a strand of hair off his forehead.

"I had other friends, friends who weren't sadistic or power hungry," Carlisle said bitterly.

"But from what you've told me, in Volterra, you finally felt like you belonged somewhere," Esme said, stroking his cheek. "It was a home where you could be with others like us—where you didn't have to hide. After so many years alone, can you really blame yourself for wanting that? Besides, people change in two hundred years. Aro and the others…well, Aro at least, you used to describe as friendly."

Carlisle shook his head. "Friendly, but not kind. I don't think Aro's changed—what's changed is us. When I was alone, I was…a curiosity to him. It was a pleasant diversion for him to pretend to be kind to me. But now, I have a family, and some of our children have talents that he would love to harness. I think that now, we're seeing Aro's true colors. If you have nothing, he'll let you be. But if you have something he wants, then he'll ask Jane to pay you a visit."

Esme shivered suddenly and sat up. She'd only just realized what a close call they'd had today: if Aro had ordered Jane to attack them once the battle with the newborns was over, then her power could have incapacitated them long enough for Felix to kill everyone that Aro didn't want to join the guard. It would have been so easy for them to destroy her family, but they hadn't. Why hadn't they?

Carlisle obviously sensed her unease. Standing up, he pulled the covers down on the bed and then gently pulled her under the quilt with him where they lay, still fully dressed, holding onto each other.

"Why didn't Jane act today?" Esme whispered at last.

She felt Carlisle shrug. "Aro's old enough to know the value of patience. He'd prefer that Edward and Alice, probably Jasper too, came to him of their own free will—they'd be more useful that way. He'll wait for years perhaps, hoping they'll join him…it might be decades before he finally decides to try and force them to."

Esme shivered again. There was no sense asking what they would do when that time came—what could be done to combat Jane's terrible power? "Alice will see him decide, and then we'll have to run," she said finally.

Carlisle sighed. "You're right." But an unspoken question hung between them: how long would they be able to run from the Volturi if it came to that? The world was smaller than it seemed—eventually, they would be found, and then…

Esme pressed her face against Carlisle's chest and tried not to cry again as she thought of the future, while poor Bree's final scream still reverberated in her head. Perhaps the Volturi had been a necessary evil once, but now they simply seemed evil, a cruel force that made this already difficult world even more painful to live in.


	107. Fortune

Hi everyone! This week's chapter focuses on how the Cullens might have made Alice and Jasper feel welcome when they first joined the family, and how lucky Jasper would have felt at finding a new life so different from his old one. Thank you so much for all your great reviews (I've said it before and I'll say it again: reviews always make my day! ) See you again next week and Happy (early) Thanksgiving!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ohmygosh, ONLY 13 MORE DAYS UNTIL "ECLIPSE" IS ON DVD!

_1950_: Fortune

Jasper's POV

Struggling not to laugh or gape in amazement, Jasper held as Alice's hand as Esme took them on a tour of the Cullens' house, which was now their house as well. Jasper had never imagined that there could be any creatures, human or immortal, who would so quickly accept strangers into their home without complaint or suspicion. It was as though it never even occurred to Carlisle and Esme that Alice or Jasper (in spite of all the scars that telegraphed his violent past for anyone to see) could be enemies, there to rob them or attack them the moment they dropped their guard. Instead, Esme was showing them the house.

"There's a bathroom over here, and another just down the hall, but Rosalie's basically claimed that one as hers and Emmett's, and I wouldn't cross her when it comes to the sanctity of her bathroom."

Alice laughed. "That's okay. We don't mind sharing with everyone else."

Jasper shook his head but said nothing—he'd only recently begun to frequent places with indoor plumbing, and there had been times in his life that he'd literally gone _years_ without a proper bath, so being put out at having to share a bathroom wasn't something that had even crossed his mind.

After the tour of the house, Alice claimed a room—the fact that it was already occupied by Edward Cullen was apparently immaterial in her opinion, because she quickly emptied the room of all his belongings—moving them carefully but gently to the garage.

"What?" Alice said, noticing that he was smiling at her in incredulous amusement. "There are plenty of other rooms. Edward won't mind."

"But why couldn't we take one of those other rooms you just mentioned?"

"Because," Alice said, smiling meaningfully at him, "I can see us really enjoying ourselves in this room. And we're far enough away from the others' rooms that they won't have to hear any noises we might make and vice versa."

"But isn't that probably why Edward Cullen picked this room?" Jasper wondered, but he smiled too and pulled her close.

"Don't worry," Alice said, kissing him slowly. "He'll forgive us. He's got a gift too, and he's going to be happy to have others like him in the family."

_Family_, Jasper thought, marveling over the word. Over the next few days, Jasper watched as Alice quickly won over not just Carlisle and Esme, but the entire Cullen family. Of course, he understood it perfectly—he knew he was somewhat biased, but in his opinion, it was impossible not to love Alice. By the same token, he could understand the Cullens' feelings of unease around him—he simply looked dangerous, and it was a small miracle in Jasper's eyes that they even made an effort to speak to him. Carlisle and Esme were particularly friendly—they made it clear that he and Alice were equally welcome in their home, and every day, when Carlisle came home from work, he made an effort to speak to both of them, along with the rest of his children, before disappearing upstairs with Esme.

As a coven leader, Carlisle couldn't have been more different than Maria. Jasper could feel that he was genuinely interested in the lives of his progeny, who were a pleasant change from the ravenous newborns he'd lived among for so many decades. Most noticeable was the fact that they all had such distinct personalities; in Maria's coven, thirst was the defining feature of almost everyone, but all of the Cullens had learned to control themselves to the point that they could take an interest in other things. Esme, Jasper quickly discovered, was kindness embodied, and a true mother to Carlise's children. Emmett, who was strong enough that he only briefly saw the new arrivals as a threat, was cheerful and almost as quick to reach out as his parents were. He liked how Alice could get one step ahead of Edward, and he saw Jasper as another brother to compete with, which was as strange to Jasper as everything else about the Cullens; in his world, rivalry had always been life and death, not relaxed and good-natured. Rosalie, by contrast, was very cool, though she didn't seem to like any of the Cullens other than Emmett and Esme, and Jasper soon realized that her chilly temperament was nothing out of the ordinary. She soon warmed to Alice though—by the end of their first week with the Cullens, Rosalie and Alice had planned to embark on a shopping trip together the following weekend.

Just as Alice had predicted, Edward forgave the loss of his room with surprisingly good grace and quickly warmed to the idea of having other gifted vampires in the house. He and Alice soon discovered that opposing each other in chess was the only way that the game could pose any challenge, though their matches were short, and they spent far more time using their respective talents to look ahead than actually moving pieces. Jasper was amused at his own willingness to be a spectator during such games; after so many years of doing whatever was necessary to survive, it proved to be surprisingly pleasant to have nothing to do.

When he and Alice got up in the morning, they didn't have to flee or defend themselves against enemies. Jasper found himself wondering how long their kind could really live like this, without killing humans or vampires. It was indescribably strange to be in a place where it really seemed that no one intended to harm him, or Alice. Having the opportunity to sit and relax was a luxury he hadn't enjoyed in over a century, and though Jasper worried at first that such a state of existence couldn't possibly last, Alice reassured him every day that things could and would go on like this. Life with the Cullens was…peaceful. And in spite of what common sense had told him, Jasper found that Alice's vision had been correct: in spite of their sudden, rather inexplicable appearance, they really were welcome here. Though Jasper wasn't certain that he would ever be able to fully trust in the new life he'd found so unexpectedly with Alice, and now with the Cullens, he was more than willing to try and accept his newfound good fortune.


	108. Pets

Happy Sunday (and belated Thanksgiving) everyone! This week's chapter (which is a bit short—sorry, I've been traveling for the holiday, so I haven't had as much time as usual to write during the past few days) is a scene between Esme and Alice, and how they might reflect on some of the things they lost when their human lives ended. Thank you so much for all your great reviews, and I'll be back next week! :)

Disclaimer: OHMYGOSH, MY COPY OF "ECLIPSE" ON DVD WILL BE HERE IN SIX DAYS! :)

_1962_: Pets

Alice's POV

It was a chilly November day, and Alice was watching Esme put out a dish of milk for a stray cat that had been visiting the past few days. It wouldn't come right up to the house—the scent of vampire was too strong, and the obvious presence of superior predators made the cat nervous—but Esme had learned from experience that if she put food under the big oak tree about twenty yards from the house, the cat would relax enough to cautiously emerge from the underbrush and partake of a free meal.

"What if the milk freezes before the cat shows up?" Alice asked when Esme got back inside.

Esme shrugged. "I'll just have to heat it up again. Usually though—oh, look! There he is!"

Alice couldn't help but grin as Esme leaned eagerly over the sink and gazed out the kitchen window at the mangy cat lapping up the milk. It took only a few minutes for it to finish, and after sitting on the frosty ground and licking his paws and washing his face for a few moments, the cat took off running across the yard and quickly disappeared into the woods.

"Why do you think he keeps coming back?" Alice wondered, joining Esme at the window. "Animals usually avoid us like the plague."

"Maybe there's something wrong with his sense of smell," Esme mused. "I think that's usually what makes animals keep their distance from the house. He seems to know that we aren't human, but I've been feeding him every day around this time, so I think he knows to wait for me to put out food and then come and eat once I've gone inside."

Alice was amused by Esme feeding stray cats, but she also thought it was a sweet gesture, and that it was more than a little sad that Esme couldn't have one of her own. Alice liked cats herself—she'd laughed, but had also felt faintly dismayed when Emmett had told her about being so desperately thirsty as a newborn that he'd sometimes snacked on stray cats on his way to school.

"I wish I could remember if I ever had any pets," Alice said thoughtfully. "I think I would have liked to have a cat, but dogs sort of seem like of more fun." Alice knew that Jasper's family had had dogs, and though it was hard for her to picture it, he'd told her about how he'd played with the animals when he was a child, and later, when he'd become immortal, he'd avoided eating strays if at all possible.

"More work too," Esme said, shaking her head. "I see humans who can barely feed themselves taking care of pets and it always amazes me that they care so much. Then again, I suppose I was the same when I was human. When I was a kid, I would have gladly given up my dinner for the cats that lived in our barn. My mother used to get so mad when I'd try to sneak kittens into our house to sleep in my bed…"

Alice laughed, but thinking about the human lives of the other Cullens always made her a bit sad. It wasn't just that she wished that she had human memories of her own; Alice also wondered if she could have changed the lives of her parents and siblings if she'd known them when they'd been human. If she could have known Esme when she was a girl, if she could have convinced her not to marry Charles Evanson, if she could have helped her mother find Carlisle after he left Columbus, and could have then convinced him of the futility of trying to stay away from Esme…it was an appealing, though impossible dream, one that Alice never mentioned to either of her parents. Instead, she said,

"Did Carlisle have pets when he was human? Did anyone back then?"

"The very wealthy did, I suppose," Esme said, glancing out at the place where the cat had disappeared before returning to a vase of flowers she'd been arranging before stopping to heat up the milk. "Carlisle's told me that he fed a stray cat and her kittens once, but then his father found out, and was predictably livid, so he never dared to do it again. Besides, when he got older, he realized that there were plenty of humans who needed food more than cats, who can usually fend for themselves."

"Unless Emmett's after them," Alice said grimly, and Esme laughed.

"Rose told me once that she didn't mind Emmett's snacking habits, because her family always had dogs."

"He's probably eaten dogs too," Alice said, rolling her eyes. "He just knows better than to mention that fact to Rosalie."

Esme chuckled. "He may not look it, but Emmett is very tactful, especially when it comes to Rosalie."

Alice smiled, and then pretended not to notice the momentary look of sadness that crossed Esme's face when she glanced out the window, obviously thinking of retrieving the now empty bowl she'd left under the tree. None of them would ever own a pet again, and though that in itself was a very small thing, it was one of so many things they'd all lost to immortality. Alice wondered, as she often did, how she might have lived her human life differently if she'd known all the things that she was going to lose, pets included, when she became a vampire. _Even though I can't go back and change things, _Alice thought sadly, _I'd still like to remember._


	109. Simple

Hi everyone! Hope you had a great weekend, and sorry for the late update-the internet wasn't working in my apartment last night, so I couldn't post this then. By the way—I haven't mentioned this for a while, but please send me suggestions for chapters you'd like to read. (If you've sent me one before and I haven't gotten around to it yet, send it again—this week's chapter was an idea requested by a reader, though coincidentally, I'd planned to do a chapter about Emmett's early days for a while, but the request made me sure that I wanted to write about this :)). My only exception with requests is song fics—sorry, I have nothing against song fics (I read them and enjoy them), I just don't like writing them myself. Thanks as always for all your great reviews, and I hope you have a great week! I'll see you again next Sunday with a new chapter. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'll be checking the mail box several times a day until my copy of "Eclipse" arrives…:)

_1935_: Simple

Emmett's POV

"What can you smell?" Carlisle asked. He and Edward were standing on either side of Emmett, obviously prepared to grab him if he caught a whiff of human and went after the scent. Not that they would be able to stop him by themselves—Rosalie and Esme would probably have to grab him too, and even then, Emmett knew that they would have a hard time getting him back to the house. It was one thing to not want to kill people on an intellectual level, but when Emmett had smelled a trace of human on his first hunt, he'd completely lost control.

On that occasion, the only thing that had saved the unlucky human's life was that the man had been a hunter who'd actually passed through the forest several days before. Emmett, unused to his newly enhanced senses, hadn't been able to tell the age of scents then, and only the intervention of the other Cullens had stopped him from following the scent to the man's doorstep. When he'd finally stopped struggling to locate the source of the tantalizing smell, Emmett had been embarrassed and apologized for all but attacking everyone when they'd grabbed his arms and torso to keep him from tracking the human. But when he'd been in the throes of bloodlust, the only thing that had mattered to him was quenching his thirst—Carlisle and the other Cullens, even Rosalie, had been less than nothing to him when he'd lost control on that first hunt.

After that, everyone had been more careful—earlier in the day, Esme had gone out ahead of the others to make sure that there were no traces of human scent in the area where they planned to hunt, and consequently, Emmett felt fine so far on this cool, gray evening. Emmett had been a vampire for a little over a week, and now he and the Cullens were preparing to go hunting, as they had every day since the change had ended and he'd "woken up dead," as Rosalie had joked, though there had been more than a touch of bitterness in her voice.

"Concentrate," Carlisle advised him gently, and Emmett forced himself back into the present. But as he tried to focus on the scents of animals that he could feed on, Rosalie's scent distracted him. Rosalie…

"West maybe?" Esme murmured, giving him a hint. Emmett flashed her a grin and then turned his head that way—deer. Emmett took off running, and though he was faster than he'd ever been in life, he noticed that Edward easily kept pace with him. Edward was the fastest in the family, but Rosalie, whose long legs moved so fast they were nearly a blur, was almost as quick. Emmett wasn't really sure how fast Carlisle and Esme were; so far, on every hunting expedition, they'd run behind him, while Rosalie and Edward had stayed on either side of him, so he was essentially surrounded until they reached their prey. Tonight was no exception: as soon as everyone spotted the small herd of deer, their own instincts took over, and everyone was quick to select and bring down a meal.

Emmett brought down five animals before he began to feel satisfied, but his throat still felt unpleasantly dry.

"We'll hunt again tomorrow," Carlisle promised, just as he had every day since the change. Emmett sighed and agreed. He knew that it was a long way away, but he was really looking forward to the day when the thirst wasn't the biggest part of his life anymore.

After the agony of the change was over, Emmett had quickly warmed to the idea of being a vampire. Though he missed his family, the Cullens were all very kind to him, and Rosalie especially made him feel welcome in the house…more than welcome, really. She clearly liked him, and Emmett liked her too, the only difficulty being that Rosalie was so ridiculously gorgeous that he sometimes found it hard to speak to her. He imagined saying, "Hey, I know we just met a few days ago, but I'm madly in love with you." Then he'd shudder at the very thought, because of how stupid and crazy the words sounded even in his head.

When they returned home from hunting that day, Emmett went to the room that was now his and changed clothes—those he'd worn to hunt were soaked in blood. Everyone promised him that in just a few more trips, he'd learn the subtle art of not making a huge mess every time he fed, but until then, he was glad that Esme had bought him a lot of dark colored clothing, which hid the stains that just wouldn't wash out. Emmett glanced out the window into the backyard and wondered what to do about Rosalie.

He knew from the way his human friends had behaved with girls that if you liked a girl, you were supposed to give her a gift. Flowers seemed to be the best idea—flowers weren't expensive, Rosalie already had more jewelry than Emmett had ever seen, and it wasn't as though she could eat chocolate. Just as he was wondering how to get some flowers without her knowing (since he never went outside unsupervised), Emmett saw Edward, Esme and Rosalie crossing the backyard, probably going to look at something in the garage. Emmett glanced at the clock on the dresser and saw that it was almost time for Carlisle's shift at the hospital—he'd be getting ready for work now, and then he'd be gone until the following morning. Emmett left the room and hurried downstairs to catch him before he left.

"Carlisle?" Emmett said, struggling to keep his voice casual and not look as embarrassed as he felt. "Do you think…on your way home tomorrow, could you maybe pick up some flowers?"

Carlisle was kind enough not to laugh or even look amused as he pulled his coat out of the hall closet. "Flowers?"

Emmett stared determinedly at the wall over Carlisle's head. "For…for Rosalie," he said, sounding sheepish even to his own ears.

"Of course, Emmett," Carlisle said kindly. "But if you don't mind, let me give you some advice."

Emmett met Carlisle's eyes. He needed advice. "What is it?"

"Ask Esme to slip out some time tonight and pick some wildflowers," Carlisle said. "Rosalie doesn't like things she knows I bought for her, so something I pick out won't work. She won't mind Esme being your go between, however."

"She doesn't have a favorite kind or anything?" Emmett wondered. "I thought that roses…I mean, because of her name…" Emmett trailed off, embarrassed.

"Emmett, as long as you're the one to give her the flowers, I'm sure she'll be quite happy with them no matter what they are." Carlisle said gently.

"Oh," Emmett said, relieved. "Okay. Thanks, Carlisle."

"See you tomorrow, Emmett," Carlisle said, pulling on his coat and hat and heading out the door. "And good luck."

"Thanks," Emmett muttered. He'd learned something about Rosalie just then, or at least he hoped that he had: Carlisle had seemed to hint that Rosalie was as lovestruck as he was, which made the whole situation a lot less uncomfortable. Rosalie was like him—direct, and seldom shy. Whenever Esme was able to slip him some flowers, he would take them to Rosalie and tell her how he felt. It would be as simple as that.


	110. Revenge

Hi everybody, and happy almost the end of the semester! Thanks to everyone who's written me with suggestions for chapters—you guys have a lot of great ideas, and I can't wait to get started on some of them now that I have a vacation coming up . Actually, this week's two chapters (yes, I'm trying to get back into doing two chapters per week again) are in response to a reader request—actually, I think more than one of you asked for this: today's chapters focus on Rosalie, and the Cullens' reactions to Rosalie's going after Royce King and his accomplices after Carlisle changed her. (This chapter is from Rosalie's perspective, and the next one is from Edward's). Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, and I hope you had a great weekend! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," AND MY COPY OF "ECLIPSE" STILL ISN'T HERE! AAHHHHHH!

_1933_: Revenge

Rosalie's POV

It was nearly dark, and Rosalie was almost ready. It was very strange to think how much her life had changed in the past few days: she'd been a vampire for little over a week—she'd been _dead_ for just a few short days, and now it was time to seek out the men who'd killed her. She'd been hunting with Esme that morning—she'd insisted that they go alone—and she'd laid out her plan, challenging the other woman to contradict her reasons for seeking revenge. But Esme had quietly consented, which had caught Rosalie off guard.

"You aren't going to try to stop me?" Rosalie said scathingly. "Won't _he_ want you to? Since he's so fixated on us not killing people?"

"I think we all understand that we can't stop you, Rosalie," Esme said, her voice gentle. "If we tried to keep you here and watch you every minute, you'd only slip away and do it the first chance you got. Besides…I understand that there isn't anything that can undo what they did to you. And you do deserve restitution for what they did."

"You agree with me then?" Rosalie said, incredulity taking some of the venom out of her voice. "That killing them is all they deserve?"

Esme didn't answer for a moment. "I don't think they deserve to die, Rosalie. In a horrible way, I think that's almost going too easy on them, because there are many things that are worse than death. But I'm not the one they hurt. You're the one they left for dead, and so I think you have the right to decide what to do with them. Carlisle and Edward feel that way too. Whatever you choose to do about those men, you'll still have a place to come back to when you're finished."

Rosalie scowled. This wasn't a 'yes,' but at least Esme had made it clear that they weren't going to try and stop her. That simplified things. As for coming back after she'd finished with Royce and all his miserable friends…Rosalie couldn't picture a life after she'd killed Royce. Since she'd opened her eyes on this new life and discovered what she'd become, his death had been the only thing that she'd looked forward to, the only reason she could see for continuing to exist. She would decide later then. That night, she consumed several deer, and then she and Esme returned to the Cullen house, where Rosalie shut herself up in her room and prepared for a very different sort of hunt.

She remembered their faces, but not their scents, so after slipping out the window, Rosalie made her way back to the street where she'd died-well, not quite, unfortunately. It had been dry since that night, and though the scents of the men were faint, she could still pick out the distinct smell of each man. She would follow her nose to their houses, the shops they'd visited and the bars they'd stopped in since then. She would keep to the shadows, and be careful that people didn't see her face—she didn't want anyone to recognize her, to tell her parents and cause them further grief. Rosalie wondered briefly if they were looking for her-if they still hoped that she might return to them safely-but the thought was distracting, so she quickly returned to considering the task at hand. She'd taken makeup from Esme, along with dark clothes, broad brimmed hats, and other methods of disguise that she hoped would be enough. She would have to be very careful—she didn't want the men to know that she was coming for them…except for Royce. She wanted Royce to try and run. She wanted him to spend what was left of his time on earth as a hunted creature, never feeling safe, always wondering when the sword that he would soon learn was dangling over him was going to fall.

As Rosalie followed the first of her killers' scents, she encountered a few men on their way home from their evening's escapades. It was the middle of the night, and the appearance of a woman in the dark street caused a stir among the group of drunks, who whistled and shouted at her. Her throat burned, but Rosalie knew she wouldn't kill them. Esme had described how difficult it would be to resist human blood at first, but at the moment, Rosalie was so totally consumed with her desire for vengeance that her thirst was easy to ignore. It could be quenched later—after she'd killed the disgusting insects she was hunting.

Instead of attacking, Rosalie smiled at the men, and stared at them with her blood red eyes until they fell silent. As their raucous cries died on their lips, they hurried away, but Rosalie continued to smile. She enjoyed _this_—she'd been so furious since Carlisle had told her what he'd made her that she'd hardly had room for any other emotion, but now, moving confidently down a dark street in the dead of night, she could feel how different she was. When she'd been human, she would have been terrified to find herself in such a place at such a time. But she felt no fear now—she was frozen forever in a beautiful, powerful, virtually indestructible body, and at the moment, she felt only anticipation at the thought of taking advantage of her newfound strength.

The scent led her to a stately hotel in the heart of Rochester. As she'd moved further into town, the scents of ever more humans had mixed with this man's, but Rosalie's obsession with her goal had made the very idea of losing the trail ridiculous. The smell grew stronger as she approached the hotel—it was very fresh here, and it led off in many directions. _He's still staying here_, Rosalie thought, her lips curving upward in a genuine, if bloodthirsty, smile, the first smile of her new life.

Rosalie pulled her hat down low over her eyes before approaching the entrance. A surprised doorman wished her "good evening," though Rosalie knew he hadn't seen her face—he was just surprised to see a young woman out so late unescorted. As she stepped inside, Rosalie pulled off her hat and looked around the dimly lit lobby. She struggled to match this scent to the man it might have come from—she could attach no name or face to the scent, but she smiled when she found that it led to the elevator. Rosalie slipped inside and closed the door, moving so fast that the man at the desk never even saw her. There was no elevator operator at this hour, so Rosalie hit every button and searched for the scent as the elevator stopped on each successive floor. On the fourth floor, she found the trail again.

Stepping into the narrow hallway, Rosalie followed the scent to a door like every other near the end of the corridor. She tried the handle and unsurprisingly found the door locked. Then she smiled again as she shoved her fingers almost effortlessly into the metal beneath the knob, shattering the lock with a harsh tearing sound. Rosalie heard a heartbeat inside the room speed up, and then she slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. As the man cursed and fumbled to switch on the bedside lamp, Rosalie smiled eagerly—she could see his face clearly in the darkness, and she knew now that he was one of them: Royce's friend, the one from out of town. She'd already decided that the instant he turned on the light, he would die. Here was the beginning of her revenge.


	111. Helpless

Hi again! Here's another chapter about Rosalie's quest for revenge and the Cullens' various reactions to such. Thank you so much for all your great reviews, and I'll be back again next week with two more chapters: I plan to post one on Sunday and one on the 24th. Also, if you go to my profile, you can check out the link to my deviantART account, which I'm finally going to be updating this week (probably tomorrow sometime) with some new drawings (all are sketches of outfits that I might like to see at Edward and Bella's wedding in "Breaking Dawn" :)).

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm seriously getting impatient for my "Eclipse" DVD to arrive (why isn't it here yet?)

_1933_: Helpless

Edward's POV

"She's gone," Esme said quietly. I heard Carlisle sigh, but I didn't look up. I was still irritated with him for changing her—_Rosalie Hale _of all people—but I did pity him for the guilt he felt now. He hated what had happened to her, as we all did, and the fact that he'd changed her after the brutal way her life had ended, that she would have to live with those memories forever, made Carlisle feel awful. Still, I knew that if he had it to do over again, he still would have changed her. He didn't take Rosalie's hatred for him personally, and he knew that it might be years before she would even speak to him civilly, but he was glad that she had a second chance now. Her life, which had nearly ended over a week ago, could become something else now. Instead of a sad story about a girl whose life was cut short, Rosalie would now outlive her killers. She would outlive all her friends and family too, and though that would grieve her, maybe someday…

Carlisle stopped thinking about just what he hoped Rosalie's life would be someday—I could hear that he wanted her to be happy, but there was some other hope mixed up in that idea, something that he was carefully shielding from me. Now it was my turn to sigh, exasperated with Carlisle all over again; after my years as a nomad, during which I'd lived off human blood, I knew that I didn't exactly have the moral high ground in this or most other situations, but I still wished that Carlisle could have saved some girl who wasn't so well known in Rochester—one whose very existence didn't risk exposing us to humans. In changing Rosalie, he'd put us all in danger, and I wished that he and Esme would be more conscious of that.

Esme had joined Carlisle on the sofa, and I could hear how comforted he was by her closeness. They were both worried about her—not so much that Rosalie would be discovered, but whether or not she would come back after she'd had her vengeance. Esme especially loved Rosalie already, though I thought that Esme would love any child Carlisle brought to her—to a mother like Esme, even a murderous new daughter was a cause for joy.

"She'll come back," I said quietly, and they both looked at me, surprised. I sighed quietly—now that my initial irritation with Carlisle was passing, I wanted to reassure my parents. Frankly, I couldn't be certain that I wouldn't have tried to do what Carlisle had done if I'd been the one to find Rosalie lying in the street on the verge of death.

"Do you really think so, Edward?" Esme whispered.

I shrugged. "She has nowhere else to go. She'll never allow her family to see her the way she is now, and she…well, I can't see Rosalie becoming a nomad. And that's not just because her human life was so pampered. She's…" I trailed off, struggling to describe my new sister; she could barely stand me, and the feeling was mutual, though less personal than her dislike for me. I didn't like Rosalie because she could be a danger to us, while Rosalie disliked me simply because I didn't like her. Rosalie was used to people liking her, and my aversion to her presence in our family had touched a nerve. Still, Rosalie was not an inherently selfish creature. She wanted what she felt she deserved in life: as a human, that had meant she'd desired a husband, a house, and children—hardly unreasonable desires. But as a vampire, she wanted to take the lives of the men whose actions had resulted in her death, and though I worried a little that she would behave recklessly in pursuit of her revenge, I thought it more likely that she would be meticulously careful in her hunt for her killers. She wanted their deaths too badly to risk losing them.

"Rosalie might hate you, Carlisle, and she might speak of our choice not to kill humans rather scornfully, but she does agree with it. Not so much out of a sense of morality as a sense of fairness. Maybe she was this way as a human too, or maybe it's because of the way she died, but from what I've heard of Rosalie's thoughts, she's determined not to kill anyone after this, ever. She never wants to steal anyone's life from them the way that hers was stolen."

"So you don't think she…" Carlisle trailed off, but then he shook his head. He'd been wondering if Rosalie would be tempted to drink the blood of the men she was going to kill, but then he'd dismissed the idea—her aversion to her killers was so great that no matter how thirsty she was, Carlisle couldn't imagine Rosalie drinking so much as a drop of their blood. Neither could I.

"What?" Esme wondered.

"She won't feed, when she kills them," Carlisle explained quietly.

Esme's eyes widened. "But she's so young! Do you really think that she'll be able to resist?"

"Yes," I said immediately. "If Rosalie is anything, it's stubborn. She's determined to kill those men, but not to drink from them. And she'd determined that they'll be the first and last humans she ever kills." I had heard this much from my brief exposure to Rosalie's mind, and as I'd expected, Carlisle and Esme relaxed visibly when they heard my description.

"She's amazing," Esme whispered fondly, and Carlisle squeezed her hand.

"Not just for a newborn, but for any of our kind, she's extraordinarily dedicated," Carlisle said, a note of pride in his voice. Rosalie certainly hated him, but Carlisle hadn't once regretted turning her, if only for Esme's sake. Now that I'd told him what I knew of her intentions, Rosalie had risen in his estimation considerably, and I could hear that Carlisle was determined to make Rosalie's new life as pleasant as possible.

I rolled my eyes when they weren't looking. I was happy that they were a little less anxious now, but the fact remained that Rosalie was a conspicuous person to have living with us. Rochester was still in an uproar over her disappearance, and as soon as we could safely leave the city without attracting attention ourselves, we would have to do so. If I was honest with myself, I could acknowledge that part of my antipathy toward Rosalie lay in the fact that she would inevitably hasten our departure from Rochester. I liked this city—it was where I'd rejoined Carlisle and Esme, where I'd begun to feel like their son again.

"Do you think she'll come back tonight?" Esme asked, looking out the window again.

I shook my head. "She isn't going to stop until she's finished, and it's going to take more than one night. You two go upstairs. I'll call you if I hear her coming."

Carlisle nodded absently and stood up. He and Esme both wished me goodnight and walked upstairs arm and arm, but even as I sat down at the piano in an attempt to drown out any amorous thoughts I might overhear, I guessed that they would probably talk for a long time before engaging in any physical expression of romance. I'd given them a lot to think about: Rosalie's future was now bound up with ours, and her actions over the next few days and weeks had the potential to change nothing, or change every aspect of our lives. As unlikely as the possibility seemed, I found myself wondering what would happen if she were caught in the act of killing someone. If other humans saw her do it, it would be dangerous for everyone—the human witnesses, and us.

Carlisle and Esme discussed this grim scenario for a while, but then I quickly focused more intently on the music in front of me when I heard them thinking about kissing. As my fingers flew over the keys, I smiled slightly. Though we were engaged in very different activities at the moment, Carlisle and Esme and I were all doing the exact same thing tonight: we were trying to distract ourselves from our fears of what Rosalie's actions might result in, and from the reality that no matter what she planned to do, we were helpless to stop her now.


	112. Impossible

Hi everyone! Thanks for all your great reviews for the last two chapters, and since people asked, I'll continue the story of Rosalie's revenge in a future chapter (maybe she'll describe it to Emmett before they get married for the first time…:)) The poem that appears in this chapter is by William Wordsworth, and the quote that Carlisle writes above it comes from "Howard's End." (It's Latin for "He loved, he was afraid to love," but since Esme presumably hasn't learned much Latin by this point in her history, it's a mystery to her when she first reads it :)). I'll see you again on Friday (Christmas Eve—for some reason, I thought Thursday was the 24th) with a Christmas chapter. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and MY ECLIPSE DVD FINALLY CAME! HUZZAH! :)

_1921_: Impossible

Esme's POV

Edward was still at school, and though Carlisle would have to be at the hospital in less than an hour to fill in for a doctor who'd gone home sick the day before, Esme was grateful that he was taking the time to play one more game of chess. She vaguely remembered playing the game as a child with her cousins, but she was fairly certain that they'd made up their own rules at the time, because what Carlisle had taught her in the past few days wasn't anything like chess as she remembered it. For one thing, the king hadn't been so helpless in her childhood version of the rules.

"Check," Carlisle said quietly, and Esme sighed—they'd only been playing for about ten minutes. Still, every day, it took a little longer for Carlisle to beat her, and Esme felt strangely pleased that he wasn't letting her win. Rather, someday she would probably be as good a player as he was, since he was giving her the opportunity to observe all his moves and the strategies he used to counter her own.

"I wonder how it was decided that knights can only move in an "L" shape," Esme wondered, reluctantly moving a knight into position in front of her king. Carlisle promptly took the piece with a bishop, but that enabled Esme to take the bishop with her queen. "It's also a bit strange that the queen is the most powerful piece. You'd think in all the centuries that primarily men have been playing this game, one of them would have decided to make the king the strong piece and the queen the defenseless one at some point."

Carlisle smiled and took Esme's other knight with a rook. "It is rather odd that that particular rule has survived so long in the various patriarchal societies that have taken up the game over time. Of course, serious chess players will argue about which sort of piece is really the most powerful—even the queen isn't without its drawbacks. Beginning players especially tend to overuse it, and then…"

Esme sighed again as Carlisle took her queen with his remaining bishop. He hadn't even moved his own queen from its place beside his king yet.

"…they lose it," Carlisle said. "Checkmate."

"I know you have to go soon," Esme said tentatively, but Carlisle was already setting up the board again.

"One more game?" he offered, smiling, and Esme nodded eagerly. The beginning of the game was uneventful as always. Esme watched carefully as Carlisle moved pawns forward to meet her own, knowing that there was a strategy behind his movements, but it was still too subtle for her to detect. As they played silently, Esme continued to consider the amusing mental picture of a king cowering behind his queen—really, it amazed her that the roles of the pieces weren't reversed. She supposed that since it was only a game, men didn't think that there was any sort of symbolism behind the way that power was distributed among the pieces.

"Where did chess originate exactly? I mean, who invented it?"

"There are a lot of different versions of the game that come from all over the world," Carlisle explained. "I believe one of the earliest games that resembled modern chess was created in India. It moved east and west from there, and as different parts of the world either conquered or were conquered by other regions, the game spread and evolved. Check."

"I resign," Esme said, looking at the board, which was a hopeless mess—no matter what she did, Carlisle would checkmate her in another move or two. Then she glanced at the clock. "Oh! You need to leave now anyway."

Carlisle checked his watch and nodded. "I'll be back around midnight then. Would you like to go hunting tonight?"

"Yes, I'd love to," Esme said, following him to the door as he pulled on his coat. "I'll tell Edward when he gets home—should we head into Michigan this time?"

Carlisle nodded. "We always find plenty of deer there. Well, have a good day."

"You too," Esme said, resisting (as she did every day) the urge to reach out and touch his arm, or smooth down his hair, or even lean over and kiss him on the cheek before he left. When Carlisle's car had disappeared down the driveway, Esme returned to the study to examine the chess board. She could see how she'd lost, but she still couldn't imagine how long it would her take to develop Carlisle's talent of predicting what moves his opponent would make beforehand and then countering them.

_Playing with Edward for years must have helped him hone his skills_, Esme thought with a smile—Edward insisted that he tried not to listen to Carlisle while they played, but Esme thought that playing with a mind reader must have forced Carlisle to learn all he could about strategy in chess, and then become practiced in concealing his strategies until it was too late for Edward to counter them. Of course, Esme knew that he'd played chess with humans before, but doing so was obviously far less challenging than having Edward as an opponent.

As Esme prepared to leave the room, she noticed a book open on Carlisle's desk. There were usually open books lying all over the study, and she rarely paid attention to them unless she herself was interested in reading them, but this one looked familiar. Thinking that it might be the new medical journal Carlisle had brought home the day before, Esme walked over to the desk and glanced at the pages, wishing, as she often did, that she could take an interest in human biology on an objective level and not get thirsty just by reading descriptions of anatomy and physiology. (Descriptions of the circulatory system were especially trying). But it wasn't a medical book after all.

At the top of the page, Carlisle had written the following words in pencil: "Amabat, amare timebat." Esme frowned, and decided to look up the words in a Latin dictionary, or ask Edward later if she couldn't find them there. But then the words beneath Carlisle's annotation arrested her attention. It was a poem:

_**Perfect Woman**_

_She was a phantom of delight  
When first she gleam'd upon my sight;  
A lovely apparition, sent  
To be a moment's ornament;  
Her eyes as star of twilight fair;  
Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;  
But all things else about her drawn  
From May-time and the cheerful dawn;  
A dancing shape, an image gay,  
To haunt, to startle, and waylay._

_I saw her upon nearer view,  
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!  
Her household motions light and free,  
And steps of virgin liberty;  
A countenance in which did meet  
Sweet records, promises as sweet;  
A creature not too bright or good  
For human nature's daily food;  
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,  
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles._

_And now I see with eye serene  
The very pulse of the machine;  
A being breathing thoughtful breath,  
A traveler between life and death;  
The reason firm, the temperate will,  
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;  
A perfect Woman, nobly plann'd  
To warm, to comfort, and command;  
And yet a Spirit still, and bright  
With something of angelic light._

Esme stared at the page for several seconds, biting her lip. She'd often wondered what sort of woman might interest Carlisle, and now she knew. Hesitantly, she went searching for a Latin dictionary—she knew that she was being rather nosy, looking up the meaning of something just because Carlisle had written it-but the book had been sitting open on the desk, and now that she'd read the poem, Esme felt the only thing that might make her feel better was knowing what the words he'd written above it meant…unless knowing made her feel even worse. Slowly, she flipped through the dictionary until she had deciphered the words.

'_Amabat, amare timebat'__…'he loved…he was afraid to love.'_ _What? _Esme was so shocked that she nearly dropped the dictionary. Then she resolutely returned it to its shelf and left the study. She picked up a book she'd left in the living room and sat by a window to wait for Edward to come home. It was almost impossible to concentrate on the words in front of her, but Esme tried—she was determined not to think about what the words in the poetry book might mean. _Carlisle's in love?_ she thought in spite of herself. _With who? Could it be…no. I must be wrong. It's impossible. Impossible…_But for the first time since she'd really gotten to know Carlisle, Esme found herself hoping for the impossible.


	113. Belief

Merry (almost) Christmas! This chapter (which is a long one) is a bit depressing in some ways, but it ends on a hopeful note, and there's a nice Carlisle and Esme moment at the end, so this seemed like a good fit for Christmas. :) Hope that everyone has a great holiday, and I'll see you again soon with another new chapter! (Probably not on Sunday, because I'll be traveling this weekend, but look out for one or two new chapters next week :)).

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm giving myself the Christmas present of re-reading "Breaking Dawn"! :)

_1988_: Belief

Carlisle's POV

Visiting hours had been over for some time, but as Carlisle strode quietly down the hospital corridor, he saw signs of departed visitors everywhere. It was Christmas Eve, and many families had brought in special meals and gifts for loved ones confined to hospital beds for the holiday. Garbage cans were stuffed with wrapping paper now, and as he moved down the hall, Carlisle smiled at the decorations that the nurses had put up over the past week—young patients had been given paper and scissors and other supplies, and they'd made snowflakes, paper chains, and done drawings of Santa and their families and the things they wanted for Christmas. On the whole, the hospital had been a more cheerful place today than it was on almost any other day of the year.

Tomorrow would be a pleasant day too—all the patients would be grateful for the visitors bearing presents they'd receive, and even the staff who had to work would smile more than usual; the doctors and nurses would all want the patients to have a good day, and they would be looking forward to going home to be with their families, so everyone would be in a better than average mood. But tonight was another story. Now that the hospital was mostly empty, save for patients and the few staff on the night shift, Carlisle could hear more than one person crying.

Carlisle was making his way to the pediatric oncology ward now—he had never gone to medical school for this particular branch of medicine, and quite frankly, he couldn't understand how humans had the strength for it. He'd been a doctor for centuries, but seeing children wasting away while their parents and doctors watched helplessly still tore at him. He supposed that humans at least had the advantage of remembering suffering imperfectly; some pediatric oncologists he knew drank too much, or took too many pills, or sought forgetfulness in other ways, but knowing that he could never forget, and knowing that he would go home to a house where one of his sons could hear his thoughts and another could read his emotions, Carlisle was careful not to venture into this ward too frequently. He would help out when asked, but he rarely made a point of visiting this corridor uninvited.

Tonight though, he could hear someone crying down here, and since the sound had yet to be arrested by a nurse or another doctor checking in on the patient, Carlisle made his way to the door and knocked softly.

The crying stopped abruptly. "Who is it?" a girl's voice said.

"Dr. Cullen," Carlisle said, opening the door. He recognized the girl lying on the bed as Sarah, a girl of about twelve or thirteen that he'd spoken to before—he knew little about her, but he'd heard that every time a doctor or nurse visited Sarah, she would ask them to bring her a new book from the hospital library.

"I'm okay," Sarah said quickly, her voice a little unsteady.

"I wasn't going to ask if you were all right," Carlisle said gently as Sarah hurriedly wiped her eyes, "because that would be a stupid question under the circumstances. So I'll only ask if you need anything. Is that a better question?"

Sarah smiled weakly. "Sure. That's a slightly less stupid question, at least. Can I have a drink of water?"

Carlisle replaced her half empty glass of water with a fresh one, and then he sat down in the visitor's chair beside Sarah's bed.

"Thanks," Sarah said. "Um…since you're already sitting down…could you stay for a little while?"

"I don't need to be anywhere until three," Carlisle said, glancing at his watch. "And it's only 2:15 now, so I'd be happy to stay."

"Where do you have to be at three?" Sarah asked. Carlisle smiled—she was obviously desperate for any kind of distraction from her own thoughts, even if that meant discussing the schedule of an adult she barely knew.

"I have to go to the nurse's station then to check in with the night nurse," he explained. "Usually, the nurses who are here at night can take care of everyone just fine on their own. I'm only here in case there's an emergency."

"What kind of doctor are you?" Sarah asked, still trying to wipe her nose as inconspicuously as possible.

"I'm an ER doctor," Carlisle said. "So I mostly work in the emergency room. But this is a small enough hospital that sometimes I help out in other places, like if someone needs to perform surgery, or in cases like tonight, when most people want to take the evening off."

"My Mom complains about this hospital sometimes," Sarah said with a sigh. "I mean, she likes all the doctors, but she thinks that it would be better if I could go to a big city hospital. My Dad says we can't afford it though."

Carlisle smiled sadly at Sarah—her hair had all fallen out from the chemotherapy, and her eyes seemed unnaturally large in her thin face. "It must be hard to hear them talk about that."

Sarah nodded, looking relieved that she hadn't had to explain this. Then something seemed to occur to her. "Didn't you want to be at home tonight too? Like the other doctors?"

"I don't mind," Carlisle said honestly. "And neither does my family, really. My kids are older than you, and I think they sort of feel like they're too old for Christmas, so they don't mind if we don't have a big celebration."

This was true too. They would all exchange gifts when he returned home that morning, but between Edward and Alice, no one would be very surprised by what they received.

Sarah shook her head. "I can't imagine feeling too old for Christmas."

"At the risk of sounding utterly tactless, what did you ask for this year?" Carlisle asked. This wasn't something he would have asked most other children, but Sarah was obviously very intelligent, and it wasn't hard to guess that she loathed being talked down to or patronized, especially when it came to the state of her health.

Sarah smiled again. "Thank you for using the word 'tactless.' Aside from asking Santa, who I _am_ too old for, to get better, I asked for a puppy. Almost every year, I wish to get better, and every year, all I get are new books and toys and clothes that I almost never get to wear because I'm usually here."

"Almost every year?" Carlisle repeated, confused.

Sarah sighed. "Last year, I didn't put "I want to be healthy" on my list to Santa, and my Mom got really mad at me. I think she was worried I was giving up. But I just thought it was silly to ask someone who doesn't exist for something that even doctors can't make happen. Mom and Dad…they're both big on me being hopeful though. Since I've missed getting to do so much normal kid stuff, they get really excited when I do things that seem like normal kid behavior. So that's why I act like I still believe in Santa—honestly, I don't even want a puppy. I just asked so they'll get the chance to say no like normal parents."

"How long have you been sick?" Carlisle asked quietly.

"Since I was eight," Sarah said. "I had leukemia then, and I was in remission last year, but then they found out I had bone cancer. At least they caught it early though. I'll probably be done with treatment by spring."

Carlisle tried not to sigh. Even if he lived another three centuries, he would never be able to understand how humans could bear pain like this so stoically—how could Sarah and her parents live with the fear and uncertainty that was a part of their lives every day? _It isn't a question of being able to or not, _Carlisle thought sadly. _They simply don't have many other options. They can give up, or try to go on. So they're trying to go on with this as best they can._

"Do you want to tell me why you were crying earlier?" he asked gently.

Sarah sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "I was just thinking how unfair this is. My cousin Meg was here earlier today with her parents, and they're all so…happy, and normal. Meg is healthy—she goes to school every day, and has lots of friends, and _hair_, and she probably won't die until she's old!"

Sarah had started to cry again, but Carlisle didn't try to stop her. "So why me?" she muttered furiously. "I don't understand it."

"Neither do I," Carlisle said quietly. "And you're right, it isn't fair."

Sarah was silent for a few moments. Then she murmured, "…do you think there's a heaven?"

Carlisle nodded. "I do. Though I hope you won't be going there too soon."

Sarah smiled slightly, but then she stared at Carlisle. "Why do you think it's real though? Santa's not, and I'm not always sure about God, so…how's heaven different?"

Carlisle wondered how to explain it. "I suppose that, when I was young, I believed in heaven because my father taught me to, and because everyone I knew believed in it. But now that I'm older, I suppose that I mostly believe because it only seems fair. I've known a lot of people like you in my life, Sarah, and it's comforting to think that even if life isn't fair in this world, there's another world waiting after it where you'll have a chance to happier. Believing that…makes doing my job less painful certainly, but it also makes me hopeful that maybe things aren't as unjust as they seem. That maybe people like you aren't suffering for no reason, and that going through all this will be worth it in the end."

_Plus, considering the fact that I'm a supernatural creature, heaven doesn't seem especially implausible,_ Carlisle thought to himself. Sarah was staring into space in front of her, obviously deep in thought.

"Do you think I'm going to get better?" she asked quietly.

"Probably," Carlisle said. Sarah was so shocked that she actually snorted with laughter.

"_Probably_?" she repeated. "Aren't you trying to comfort me right now?"

"Yes, but I thought you'd prefer the truth. I could lie and insist that you're definitely going to be just fine, but in reality, I can't promise that. Given what I know about your condition, I'll say that you're probably going to make a full recovery, and leave it at that. Okay?"

Sarah stared at him for a moment, her expression hard to read, but then slowly, she began to grin.

"You're right," she said. "_Probably_ is a better answer, since I think you're being honest. When people tell me that they're sure I'll be okay, sometimes it seems like a lie."

Just then, there was a quiet knock on the door.

"Yes?" Carlisle called, thinking it was a nurse. To his surprise, it was Esme who opened the door and came in.

"A nurse told me where to find you," she said, and Carlisle smiled—this was said for Sarah's benefit, since Esme had obviously slipped into the hospital somehow and followed his scent to this room.

"Hi," Esme said, speaking to the girl now.

"Hi," Sarah whispered, staring at Esme with undisguised wonder. It seemed to Carlisle that children always liked Esme—they were drawn to her beauty certainly, as many humans were before subconsciously recognizing her as dangerous—but it was also as if they could see how much she loved children too. Carlisle was glad that though Esme had slipped a few times when she'd been young, she'd never accidentally killed a child—Esme would have rather died than make a mistake of that magnitude.

"Sarah, this is my wife, Esme," Carlisle said gently. He took Esme's hand as she sat down on the edge of the girl's bed, and then they smiled at each other.

"Sorry, but I couldn't sleep, so I decided to sneak in and see you," Esme said, winking at him.

Carlisle laughed. "I'm glad you did. Now we can both keep Sarah company."

"It's nice to meet you, Sarah," Esme said, and Sarah smiled shyly.

"Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Cullen," she said.

"You can just call me Esme, if you'd like," Esme offered with a smile.

"Okay, Esme," Sarah said, grinning again.

They talked for a long time: Esme's arrival seemed to cheer Sarah up considerably, and Carlisle guessed that she rarely had the chance to speak with adults who weren't her parents or doctors and nurses come to examine her. Sarah told Esme about what kinds of books she liked to read, movies she's seen, TV shows she liked, and it turned out that Sarah also loved to draw, so Esme told her what it was like to study art and architecture, and Sarah listened, her expression rapt.

"That's what I want to be someday too," she said firmly. "An artist, I mean. Or an architect."

"Then I'm sure you will be," Esme said, smiling, and Sarah's eyes widened at the obvious sincerity in her voice.

Carlisle and Esme left the room only after Sarah had drifted off to sleep. Out in the hallway, Carlisle saw that it was time to check in at the nurse's station, and after doing so, he returned to Esme, who was waiting further down the corridor, where the night nurse wouldn't see her.

"Hi again," she said quietly, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him until Carlisle pressed her against the wall, his hands on her shoulders, and leaned away—if they weren't careful, they were going to have to go somewhere more private.

"I can't leave until seven," he said apologetically, "and I should probably check on my own patients now, after spending so much time chatting with Sarah."

"I'll wait here then," Esme said, leaning close enough to kiss him lightly once more before stepping away. "We can talk later, but right now I'll just give you an early Christmas present. From Alice, not from me."

Carlisle raised his eyebrows. "What is it?"

"She wanted me to tell you that Sarah is going to be fine," Esme said, smiling happily at his relieved expression. "Alice saw you worrying about her, so she asked me to come tell you that she's going to get better. She really will be going home in the spring."

"Knowing that is an excellent Christmas present," Carlisle said, embracing her. "I'll thank you now, and later I'll thank Alice."

Esme laughed, her expression eager. "Wait until later to thank me. When we're alone, I'll give you your Christmas present."

"And what might that be?" Carlisle murmured, burying his face in the hair on top of her head, inhaling her scent. "Can I have a hint?"

"Well, it involves ribbon," Esme said quietly, her expression teasing. "And very little clothing. No clothing, actually."

Carlisle grinned. He couldn't wait to get home and unwrap his Christmas present.


	114. Rescue

Happy New Year, everybody! Sorry I'm updating later than I'd thought I would, but here's an extra long chapter that I've wanted to do for a while—in it, Carlisle and Esme help the wolves keep their secret, though only after almost revealing it inadvertently. By the way, I mention the names of several towns in British Columbia in this chapter—if you are from British Columbia, then I apologize for taking liberties by making up a few details about houses/forests/that whole area, since I've never actually been there. I hope that everyone is enjoying the beginning of 2011, and I'll see you again next Sunday with a new chapter! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," which I'm going to start reading on my Kindle (my Mom gave it to me for Christmas! :)) as soon as I finish rereading "Breaking Dawn." :)

_2007_: Rescue

Jacob's POV

Today was turning out to be a pretty bad day. It had started out fine—I'd gotten to sleep in before going hunting with Edward, Bella, and Nessie—but as soon as I got home, things started to go downhill fast. The problem was Collin—I didn't know the kid very well, since I'd split from Sam's pack pretty soon after Collin joined, but today, I was learning way too much about him. Like the fact that he had a girlfriend, and that someone had apparently blabbed to her about the whole imprinting thing.

With so many wolves living in La Push, it was getting harder and harder to keep the secret from parents, siblings, and friends, and Sam and I weren't exactly ordering our packs to be as careful as they'd once been—after all, it's not like most people would take you seriously if you said you knew someone who could turn into a wolf. It was easier to count on the fact that most people don't believe in werewolves than it was to swear so many people to secrecy, and Embry and the other guys whose parents hadn't known the truth about us before were all enjoying not being perpetually grounded. Unfortunately, having the secret be practically common knowledge in La Push was suddenly having unintended consequences.

Specifically, Collin's girlfriend Mandy had broken up with Collin after someone had told her about imprinting. Mandy, not wanting to follow in Leah's footsteps, broke up with Collin as soon as he admitted that he hadn't imprinted on her, and as Seth had explained to me after Sue Clearwater got a worried call from Mandy's mom, the kid wasn't taking it very well. Okay, that was an understatement: apparently, Collin had phased just a few seconds after leaving Mandy's house, and now he was on a rampage somewhere in southern Canada, tearing around as a wolf, howling and racing through people's yards, and generally wreaking the kind of conspicuous havoc that we try to avoid.

Sam was off somewhere with Emily, Paul and my sister Rachel were also gone, as were Jared and Kim, and I couldn't get in touch with any other member of Sam's pack, either. It was spring break at our school, and I knew that a lot of the guys were on vacation with their families, but it still bugged me-in the future, we were gonna need a rule about keeping in touch better when we were away from home. It seemed like everybody who I tried calling to get in touch with Sam or the others had their cell phones turned off too, which suggested in Rachel and Paul's case at least that they were all busy doing things that I really, really, didn't want to know anything about, so it had become my job, and my pack's job, to try and track down Collin and calm him down before he did anything stupid. Well, stupider. Seth was with me, and Quil and Embry had come along too, though it was pouring down rain. By the time we crossed the border into Canada, it was almost dark, and all four of us looked like we'd swum there.

_Why didn't Leah want to come with us?_ Quil wondered. _Aside from the fact that we're all going to stink like wet dog for a week after this._

_I think Leah figured that Collin wouldn't like to be reminded of the negative side of imprinting anymore than he has been already today,_ I guessed. Leah can occasionally be tactful, if she really works at it.

_She also said that it would be better if we had a 'guys only' talk with Collin, whatever that means,_ Seth said, shaking his head to momentarily clear some water off his face. _What are we even supposed to say to him though?_

None of us had an answer to that. It didn't exactly help matters that Embry and I had both imprinted—what _were_ we going to say? "I know you feel like crap right now, Collin, but someday you won't—especially if you imprint. Then you'll forget all about what's-her-face." Yikes. Imprinting was the whole problem here.

It took a long time to pick up Collin's trail, and we only found it because we'd gotten a tip about the direction he seemed to be heading in. Emmett Cullen had called me just before we left La Push—he and his blond witch of a wife had apparently been watching TV when a news bulletin came on that some wild animal had been spotted running amok in Vancouver, so we all phased and headed that way. I still had my cell phone in a special pocket that Esme had sewn into the shorts that were currently fastened to my leg by an elastic cord, and as soon as the trail started to seem fresh, I told the guys to take a quick break while I phased and tried to find out if Collin had been spotted again.

"Any updates?" I asked as soon as Bella picked up her cell phone.

"No, and hi to you too, Jake," she said. "We've been keeping an eye on the news all day, but it seems like Vancouver was the only place where anyone spotted him. It's just like when people spotted you guys near Forks—there are lots of witnesses who say that they saw a big animal running around, but there aren't any pictures or videos to prove it."

I breathed a little easier when I heard that. "Okay, good. The last thing I need is for Sam to get home and hear that one of his guys exposed all of us."

"Good luck finding him, Jacob," Bella said sympathetically. "Carlisle and Esme drove up to Calgary today because Esme has some paintings in a gallery there, so they'll be looking out for Collin too while they're driving home."

"Thanks," I said half-heartedly—it didn't seem likely that Carlisle and Esme were going to spot Collin from their car, but two extra pairs of vampire eyes were way better than nothing.

I phased again, and the four of us spent the next three hours combing the forests around Vancouver for fresh signs of Collin, but the rain made things tricky—it was hard to tell if we were crossing a trail that Collin had made minutes ago or hours ago. All of us were hoping that by now, he'd had time to calm down a little, and that maybe he'd stopped to hunt or rest for a while before coming home. If I were Collin, I would have been sort of pissed that we'd come looking for him when all he probably wanted was a little space, so it was possible that he was even trying to confuse us by running in circles, crossing rivers, and otherwise doing everything he could to obscure his trail.

Gradually, the rain started to let up a little, and around midnight, I heard my cell phone ring. Cursing, I hurried to phase back before the call went to my voicemail.

"Hello?" I said, snatching the phone out of my pocket as soon as I had fingers.

"Jake, we found him," Esme said. "We were driving by, and we saw him slip into a barn just off the main road about ten miles north of Kelowna."

"Got it," I said. "We'll be right there."

_Esme says he's stopped pretty close by_, I thought as soon as I phased back, and the guys all took their places on my flanks as we headed east. A few minutes later, we all stopped to phase at the edge of a field and pulled on our shorts before joining Carlisle and Esme, who'd pulled off onto a dirt road that led to the barn that Collin was apparently inside of.

"Judging by the sound of his breathing, he's human again and he's fallen asleep," Carlisle murmured as soon as we got close.

"He didn't even hear us park or see our lights," Esme whispered, glancing toward the building. "Is he all right?"

"He's just having a bad day," I said with a sigh, and then I told them about the whole Mandy thing.

"After running all the way here without stopping, he's probably exhausted," Esme said sympathetically.

"I know I am," Embry grumbled.

"We can give all of you a ride back," Carlisle said, and though I could tell that Quil and Embry weren't thrilled with the idea of riding for hours in a car that stunk like vampire, Seth and I were so used to the smell by now that we didn't even care. Collin would probably complain but accept the ride too though, assuming his little temper tantrum was over and he was ready to come home.

"Let's go in and wake him up then," I said, turning toward the barn. Just then, I noticed flashing lights on the highway, and all of us froze. A cop car was on the main road, heading in our direction.

Quil, Embry and I, all swore in unison.

"There must be a house near here," Seth said, scanning the field we were standing in. "There!" He pointed to a distant light that was mostly obscured by the trees in front of it.

"Someone must have seen the lights from our car turning down this road and called the police," Carlisle said grimly. "We didn't want to startle Collin, so I didn't even think to turn them off."

"At least the farmer or whoever owns this barn didn't come out here by himself with a shotgun," Embry pointed out, and I gave him a look. We were in bad enough trouble already without imagining shotgun wielding weirdoes.

"So what now?" Quil wondered.

I looked around. We could all run into the forest long before the cop car got to us, but there was no way that Carlisle would be able to move his car before then. And though the last thing I wanted was Collin getting caught sleeping naked in a stranger's barn and getting arrested, I also didn't like the idea of getting the Cullens involved in a high speed chase, not that they would be stupid enough to even try to get away at this point.

Suddenly, I saw Esme smile unexpectedly. "Jacob, you and the others should get in the barn too. We'll take care of this."

I felt a little bad leaving Carlisle and Esme to face the cop, but at this point, I was too tired and hungry to argue if someone else wanted to take responsibility for this whole mess. Seth, Quil, and Embry followed me into the old wooden building, and a second later, I heard Esme latch the door behind us.

"Guys?" Collin said, poking his head out of the pile of straw-he looked as sleepy as I felt. "What are you doing here? What's—"

"Collin," I said, trying to imitate Sam's patient tone. "Do me a huge favor and shut up. Now."

"Look," Seth whispered, pointing outside. I joined the others back by the door—the building was so old that there were gaps between wooden planks that were big enough for us to have a good view of what was going on out in the field—for a human, it would have been too dark to see, but our eyes could see everything. The cop car had just turned down the dirt road, and as I watched, I saw Esme shove her hand into the left front tire of Carlisle's Mercedes, creating a puncture that flattened it immediately. I winced—sure, it wasn't my car, but it still stung to stand by and watch someone hurt a Mercedes like that. Carlisle, unlike probably every other Mercedes owner in the world, just looked bemused instead of angry.

"What's she's doing?" Embry whispered, though there was no way that the cop could hear us, even if he wasn't still in his car. As we watched, Esme pushed Carlisle until he was sitting down on the hood of the car, and then, to our horror, she sat down in his lap and started kissing him.

All of us groaned—even Collin had gotten up to watch.

"Okay, I really didn't need to see that," Quil muttered, rubbing his eyes like he was trying to wipe away the image of what we'd all just seen.

"How is making out right now going to help us exactly?" Embry said, glancing outside through a crack in the door and then quickly looking away again—apparently, they were still kissing.

"Oh," I said, starting to smile as the cop car pulled up behind the Mercedes. "I think I get it though. It's not a bad idea, actually."

"What idea?" Seth asked.

"_We_ know how old they are, but they look like a couple of college kids," I said, shaking my head. "If they tell the cop that they pulled off here because they got a flat tire, and he sees that they've actually got one, then that explains why whoever called the cops saw their lights. It's not like the cop has any reason to check in here. Esme latched the door behind us, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Quil said. We all snuck a look outside again, and to everyone's relief, Carlisle and Esme had stopped kissing and were looking sheepish as the cop approached them.

"Can I ask you two what you're doing out here?" the man said, shining his flashlight on them and the car.

"Sorry, officer," Carlisle said, sounding a lot younger than usual—I guessed that he was imitating Edward's voice. "We had a flat, and it didn't seem safe to stay on the main road when it was raining so hard. We just pulled off here to wait for a friend to bring us a spare."

The cop trained his flashlight on the tire that Carlisle pointed to and nodded—he was already convinced, but he still had to go through the official cop routine. "Can I see your I.D.s?"

Carlisle took out his wallet and handed it over, and Esme pulled a card out of her purse, which she'd set on the ground beside the car. Both apparently checked out, because the cop gave each card back a few seconds later. For the first time, I noticed Carlisle and Esme's clothes. They were both wearing jeans and t-shirts, as opposed to the more adult stuff they usually wore—they'd probably gone to the art gallery incognito, and I guessed that since they were pretending to be other people, they must have I.D.s to back that up.

"Is this your car, Mr. Owens?" the cop said, looking amused now instead of threatening. It _was _a ridiculously nice car for a college kid to be driving.

Now it was Esme's turn to smile sheepishly. "It's my Dad's, sir. We just borrowed it for the weekend. We were visiting my sister and her husband in Calgary."

"So you two both go to the University of Washington?" the cop said.

Embry punched me in the arm.

"What's he talking about?" he whispered.

"Fake I.D.," I whispered back, and Embry nodded.

"My daughter goes there too," the cop said, sounding positively friendly now. "What are you majoring in?"

"Biology," Carlisle said. He sounded totally natural, but I got the feeling that he was really hoping that he didn't pick whatever the cop's daughter was majoring in.

"Art history," Esme said, "but I'm probably going to transfer to education next year."

"My daughter's in the teaching program there," the cop said eagerly—I got the feeling that he was enjoying talking to two nice college kids instead of waiting for drunk drivers or anyone speeding to pass him on the freeway. "She likes it a lot so far, but she's only a sophomore."

"It's a great school," Esme agreed, and I rolled my eyes—she'd probably been an actual student there at some point, or at least one of the Cullens had—thus the familiarity with the school. Carlisle and Esme were both good at providing just enough information to make what they said sound plausible, but not so much that they sounded anxious to prove that they weren't lying, which would have made it obvious that they were. They chatted with the cop about the University of Washington for a few minutes, and then he prepared to leave.

"You're sure you've got someone coming with a spare tire?" the cop said.

"Yes, sir," Carlisle said. "A friend of ours in Trail said he'd bring us a spare. He should be here soon."

"Well, the owner of the barn here saw your lights stop here and called to have someone come check it out," the cop explained. "I'll drive up to the house to let them know what happened, and then I'll come back and check on you."

"Thank you, officer," Esme said politely, and both the Cullens waved to the cop as he drove away.

"Nice," I said as soon as Esme opened the barn door for us—the cop hadn't even checked to see if it was latched. "So what's your fake name?"

"Elizabeth Cullen," Esme said, smiling. "So even if Officer Briggs were to check our license plate number, we'd be safe. Now you're going to have to pretend to be our friend from Trail."

I nodded—Carlisle had pulled a spare tire out of the trunk, and he held up the car as Quil and Embry removed the flat. "So where's my car supposed to be?"

"Another friend dropped you off," Esme explained. "And now we're all going to a party together. Here." she tossed me a t-shirt. "I had a bag of clothes in the back for Goodwill. That used to be Emmett's, so it should almost fit." Then she glanced at Collin, who was hiding behind the door, and went back to the car to get him some clothes. I pulled on the shirt, and a few minutes later, after Quil and Embry returned to the barn and Esme latched the door again, the cop returned, glad to see that we'd already changed the tire.

"Most kids today couldn't change a tire if their lives depended on it," he said, shaking his head as he backed his cruiser out again and drove away. As soon as his lights disappeared, Quil, Embry, Seth and Collin all piled into the backseat. I got shotgun, and Esme slid herself onto Carlisle's lap again. It was cramped, but we were all so relieved to have avoided any kind of legal trouble tonight that no one really minded. Plus, it had started raining again, and the temperature was dropping, so much so that I noticed the change in spite of my usual high body temperature—none of us were going to miss running for several hours with ice clinging to the ends of our fur the whole time. Once the windows were all rolled down an inch or so, the smell of vampire wasn't so bad, and Seth and Collin actually fell asleep a few minutes into the drive home.

"Thanks for the help tonight," I murmured, though Collin was snoring louder than I was talking. "Unless I kill Collin between now and the time he wakes up, I'm sure he'll thank you too."

"You're welcome, Jacob," Carlisle said quietly. "It isn't always easy for any of us to keep ourselves a secret."

"Especially when we're upset," Esme whispered, glancing toward the backseat. "Besides, whoever owned that barn only called the police because they saw our lights on their road. It's a relief that none of you got caught tonight because of us, especially Collin. Do you think he's going to be all right?"

"He'll be okay," I said dismissively. "Sam'll give him a talking to about not freaking out like this ever again, but I think he'll feel better after this. Maybe he just needed to get all his frustration out of his system."

"Lucky you guys spotted him though," Quil said. "I really wasn't looking forward to running all night."

"Next time you almost get us caught and then rescue us from being discovered by a cop though, could you maybe do it without the public display of affection?" Embry asked.

Esme grinned. "No promises, Embry."


	115. Plans

Hi everyone! This chapter takes place right around the same time that last week's chapter did—I really love to imagine life for the Cullens after the events of "Breaking Dawn," because I feel like in the months following the confrontation with the Volturi, the relationship between vampires and werewolves would really improve, though I also think that it would be easier for everyone in La Push to trust vampires like Carlisle, Esme, and Bella a bit more than the other Cullens. Also, since I've been re-reading "Breaking Dawn" (I just finished it yesterday), I've realized that a lot of previous chapters that I set in 2006 actually don't really make sense there, since the Volturi don't show up until the very end of that year (I can't believe I forgot that!), so this past week, I went back and edited a few chapters so they're set in 2007, not 2006. When the Official Guide comes out in April, we'll probably get an even better look at how inaccurate my timeline is sometimes…but oh well. :) Stay tuned after this for another new chapter! (For this semester at least, I'm trying to go back to writing two a week :)).

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 312 days until "Breaking Dawn Part 1"! (Okay, that number is actually pretty depressing…)

_2007_: Plans

Bella's POV

As Charlie stopped his cruiser at a red light, I checked for the third time that the hood on my sweatshirt was pulled down over my face as far as it would go. For obvious reasons—namely, that everyone who'd known me when I was human would freak out if they saw me now that I was a vampire—I almost never went into Forks anymore, unless someone else was driving. That way, I could concentrate on looking inconspicuous.

"Relax," Charlie said, glancing at me. "People think you're at Dartmouth, remember?"

"It's spring break," I reminded him. "Didn't you tell me last week that Mrs. Newton said Mike was coming home? The last thing I need is for someone from high school to see me."

"Oh yeah," Charlie muttered, and I immediately felt a little guilty—it was hard enough for him having a daughter who, after a lifetime of clumsiness and occasional absentmindedness, was suddenly graced with ridiculous physical perfection as well as a perfect memory, not to mention a very a dangerous secret. Still, we both knew how important it was to keep me from being spotted by anyone in Forks. As far as Charlie's friends and co-workers knew, I was enjoying college life _and_ married life so much that I had little interest in coming back to visit much, and the mysterious illness that he'd told everyone about the previous summer had completely passed. Charlie, like me, wasn't great at lying, but with the Cullens (not to mention Billy and Jacob) coaching him on what he should and shouldn't say, things were going okay. We were safe, and so was Charlie, and as long as we were careful, there was no reason that he shouldn't get to watch Renesmee grow up along with the rest of my family. And in just a few years, she would be fully grown, but we still weren't sure about staying in Forks for all that time. It was risky—there was always the chance that someone would see one of us if we weren't careful, or that someone might drive out to the big white house in the woods and see that it was still inhabited…

"You know, we're thinking about actually going to Dartmouth for a semester next year," I said casually, wondering how Charlie would react. Glancing at him so fast that I knew he didn't see me, I saw his eyes narrow.

"You guys aren't going to disappear on me, are you?" Charlie said warily.

"No, we'll be back," I promised. Alice had seen that we would be. "But we think that Carlisle's going to get a fellowship to teach there for a semester and do some research, so all of us were going to go with him. We've got a house there already—"

Charlie sighed. "You know, this is starting to sound like the kind of thing that I shouldn't know too much about. How about you just tell me before you leave and call me a lot while you're gone, okay kid?"

"Okay, Dad," I said, smiling. Charlie's desire to know as little as possible about the weirdness he was suddenly surrounded by was very comforting, and very convenient. Even if the Volturi came back here someday, I was cautiously optimistic that he would be safe, if only because he didn't know what we actually were. And then there was Sam's pack—they would protect Charlie, and everyone in Forks, even if Jacob and some of his pack went with us when we finally left for good. I always felt a little sad thinking about the future, because I knew that though many of the people I loved would always be with me, others, like Charlie, weren't going to be around forever. That depressing thought was part of why I'd agreed to ride with him out to La Push today rather than driving my own ridiculously ostentatious car.

"Have you talked to your mother this week?" Charlie asked suddenly, and I felt another pang of guilt.

"We talked yesterday," I said honestly. "She's…well, not as worried as she was. But she really wants us to come visit her."

"And that would probably be a bad idea, huh?" Charlie said, his voice more sympathetic now.

I nodded. "That's something else that you probably shouldn't know the details of. I mean, I look so different anyway. And in Florida…" I trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence without freaking him out. 'By the way Dad, my skin sparkles in sunlight now.' Jeez.

Charlie didn't say anything else about Renée, which was a relief. Though my mom knew that I wasn't 'sick' anymore, rather than being worried about why I wasn't able to visit her in Florida (and why my voice always sounded so strange on the phone), I could tell from her voice, rather than anything she said during our conversations, that she was starting to feel hurt that I hadn't come to see her since the wedding. I knew it was for her own good, and I knew that trying to include Renée in my new life would be incredibly selfish—letting Charlie get so close was bad enough—but every time I hung up the phone after talking to her, I was sorely tempted to try and do something.

I shook my head. Nothing good could come of dwelling too much on the distance between me and mom—it was necessary, and though it was hurting us both, I was just going to have to find a way to live with it. By now, Charlie and I were almost out of town, and I was able to relax a little. There were fewer cars on the road than usual—a lot of people were out of town for spring break—and as we crossed the treaty line and headed toward La Push, I smiled in anticipation. Glancing at Charlie again, I saw that he was grinning to, and I knew why: in a few minutes, we would be with Nessie.

The first time that Jacob had suggested taking Nessie to visit La Push, I'd seriously worried that Rosalie was going to rip his head off. Alice was less than thrilled too—it wasn't like she could see Nessie anyway, but she'd hated the idea of her niece being surrounded by wolves without supervision-most of my family still saw the members of both packs as dangerously unpredictable. We'd eventually reached a compromise in the form of Carlisle taking Nessie out to La Push—the treaty had originally stated that we weren't allowed on Quileute land, but Jacob had no problem making exceptions, and Sam had agreed, so long as Carlisle and I were the only exceptions. Neither of us had ever killed a human, after all, so we were considered 'safe' vampires-as safe as vampires could get, anyway.

I was still a newborn technically, but months of irreproachable conduct had convinced even Sam that I probably wasn't going to lose it and kill someone by accident; of course, I noticed that I was never left alone with any humans when I visited La Push. Even Billy, who was really trying to treat me the same as he had before I'd been changed, would start to look a bit edgy if Jake left the room for even a second. Still, it was an improvement over the antipathy that had been the norm this time last year.

"Hi!" Nessie called, running up to the car and hugging me as soon as Charlie had parked in front of Billy's house. (I thought of it that way now that Jacob almost never left the Cullen house). "Sue's here. She gave Jared and Kim a ride."

"That's nice," I said, grinning at Charlie, who was smoothing down his hair and checking his reflection in the side mirror of the cruiser. He apparently hadn't expected to see Sue until they met for dinner later.

Nessie gave me a serious look and touched my face with her hand. In an instant, I saw that Kim had fallen while walking on the beach with Jared, who hadn't been able to catch her in time. She had a bad gash on her arm, and Sue had found Jared trying to stop the bleeding by wrapping his t-shirt around the wound. The doctor in La Push could have fixed Kim's arm, but Sue had known that Carlisle and Nessie were at Billy's, which was closer, so she'd driven Jared and Kim here. They'd arrived just a few minutes ago.

"Don't worry, she's stopped bleeding now," Nessie whispered, and I nodded, relieved. Taking Nessie's hand, I followed Charlie into Billy's crowded house. Jacob grinned at me, but everyone except Kim and Carlisle gave me a wary look—Jared actually bared his teeth at me, obviously warning me to keep my distance, and though the smell of alcohol was a lot stronger than the scent of blood, just to be safe, I stood with Nessie by the door and tried not to look thirsty. I wasn't really, but even the very faint scent of human blood in the room was more enticing than I wanted to admit.

"Finished," Carlisle said, tucking in the end of the bandage he'd wrapped around Kim's arm. "Take some ibuprofen later if it starts to hurt again."

"Thanks, Dr. Cullen," Kim said, glancing at Jared and cutting him off before he could speak. "Jared, I told you, I'm fine. Stop apologizing for me being a clutz."

"Sorry," Jared said reflexively. "I mean, I'm sorry for apologizing about your arm too much." He grinned at her hesitantly.

Kim rolled her eyes, but she was smiling too. "That's okay, I guess."

"Would you two like to stay for dinner?" Billy asked. "I don't mind ordering a pizza."

"Thanks Billy, but we're going to Kim's tonight," Jared said, grinning. "My Mom's sort of fed up with me right now—our grocery's bill's doubled since—" he glanced at Charlie, who was staring at the TV, obviously trying not to listen. "—you know," he said, his grin even wider now.

"My parents don't mind him eating all our food _yet_," Kim said, rolling her eyes at Jared again before looking at Carlisle, "but she wanted me to thank you the next time I saw you, Dr. Cullen. She says that if it weren't for Mrs. Cullen cooking for these guys a lot of the time, they would have eaten us out of house and home by now."

Carlisle laughed. "Thank you, Kim. I'll be sure to tell Esme that."

"You know, Carlisle," Billy said slowly. "I've mentioned it to Sam, and I don't think anyone would object if Esme wanted to come with you and Nessie to visit sometime."

"Yeah, she should come over!" Jacob said eagerly. "Even if she doesn't want to cook, though I wouldn't mind if she did—it might be nice to eat something other than pizza here for once."

"If you want something else, you can cook it yourself," Billy said.

"Or beg me to cook you something," Sue said, rolling her eyes when Jacob gave her a hopeful expression.

Carlisle looked as surprised as I was by Billy's invitation, but he recovered faster than I did. "I'm sure that Esme would be delighted to come sometime, Billy."

"If you aren't careful, she might try to redecorate this place though," Jacob said, glancing down at the ancient couch and the threadbare curtains. "Every time Rachel's here with Paul, she complains that this place is a mess, and Esme's even worse about that stuff."

"I know that your room at least _is_ a pit, Jake," I pointed out. "If Esme set fire to everything inside it, that would be an improvement as far as redecorating goes."

"It's not that bad," Jacob said, glancing down the hall toward his room self-consciously—the smell of unwashed clothes was powerful, even from here, though of course my nose was stronger than it used to be.

"Yes, it is that bad," Nessie said quietly—she still tried not to talk too much in front of Charlie.

"I probably should do some laundry one of these days," Jacob conceded with a shameless smile as he leaned back on the couch.

* * *

Kim and Jared left soon after that to go to Kim's house for dinner, and then Carlisle and I prepared to leave with Nessie—Sue had decided to feed Jacob and Billy along with my Dad, and now she was rummaging through Billy's cupboards to see what she had to work with.

It was always comforting to see Charlie surrounded by people when I said goodbye to him—that way, it felt less like I'd abandoned him. Charlie had Sue and her family, and Billy too, and Renée had Phil; it wasn't as though I'd left either of my parents alone in the world when my human life had ended, but I still worried about both of them...because of course, someday they wouldn't be around to worry about.

"Is something wrong?" Carlisle asked quietly as he drove toward home.

I sighed. "It just seems like Charlie has a few more gray hairs every time I see him. I know I'm just imagining it, but…he really does look a little older every year. And it's sad to think that we'll always be around...and he won't be."

"You're right," Carlisle said gently. "You'll just have to do your best to enjoy the time you have with both your parents."

"Going to Dartmouth for a semester next year will probably be good," I said, trying to be positive about the separation, short though it would be. "I mean…it'll show me what life is going to be like someday, without either of my parents. And it'll be nice for you guys—you're not used to staying in one place for so long, are you?"

"That's true," Carlisle agreed. "But we've grown attached to this area for obvious reasons. We all have a lot of good memories here, and after a little time away, I think we'll be glad to come back and have a few more years with Charlie and our Quileute friends."

"Don't worry, Jake's coming with us to New Hampshire," I said to Nessie, who'd touched my face, an image of concern in her mind. "Do you really think he'd let us leave him behind?"

From Nessie's thoughts, I could see that she would miss Charlie as much as I would, but she was also eager when she thought of traveling. She was so grown up in some ways that it was easy to forget at times that there were things she wanted that any kid would want: to ride in an airplane for the first time, to see a new place and try new things. And so was I really. When I put my worries about the future aside, it was easy to see that there was a lot to look forward to too.

I smiled. If there was one thing I'd learned from my new life so far, it was that it was hard to make plans for the future; though I was almost certainly safer as a vampire than I'd ever been as a human, the events of the past year had taught me how quickly things could change, and how, despite the best laid plans, it could be difficult to avoid disaster. Carlisle was right: I would enjoy the time I had with Charlie, because worrying wouldn't stop him from aging. And Nessie was right too: whether our plans turned out exactly as we intended them to or not, we had an enviable future ahead of us.


	116. Someday

Hi again! For today's second chapter, here's a story from Tanya's POV. I only just finished rereading "Breaking Dawn"—the first time, I sort of devoured it, a process which included staying up till 4am on Christmas Eve back in 2008 to finish it—yeah, that was a pretty awesome Christmas . Anyway, it was fun to read it a bit more slowly this time, and doing so also inspired me to write a chapter from Tanya's point of view. We only encounter her briefly in "Breaking Dawn" and "Midnight Sun," but given the way she tries to get close to Edward has always made me wonder (though she really doesn't seem to be jealous of Bella) how the Denali sisters must sometimes feel when they're surrounded by all the married Cullens. So, this chapter concerns a visit from Tanya and the rest of her coven, and it takes place a few months after Carlisle and Esme were married. Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm really impatient for the second volume of the graphic novel to come out. Pretty please, let it be released this year!

_1921_: Someday

Tanya's POV

It was a warm summer evening, and as Tanya sat with Esme in the living room of the Cullens' home in Wisconsin, she was glad that Kate had suggested this visit after they'd received a letter from Edward announcing Carlisle and Esme's marriage. Irina had been more than a little irritated at not being invited to the wedding, but as Carmen had pointed out, Edward had explained that technically, they hadn't invited anyone. Due to the impatience of the bride and groom, they'd been married the day after they'd gotten engaged, and so Edward had been the only guest at the ceremony. Now that they'd returned from a lengthy honeymoon in Canada, the Denalis had come to congratulate them personally.

Carlisle had been unable to take the night off from work, so Carmen and Eleazar were availing themselves of the contents of the library this evening, while Edward went hunting with Kate and Irina. Tanya knew that they would have to hunt in small groups for the duration of their visit—eight vampires out hunting at once was more than the Wisconsin countryside could easily contain—so she'd stayed behind at the house with Esme, who was waiting for Carlisle to get home before going hunting herself. Tanya wanted to keep the hostess company, but she was also eager for a chance to talk to her without Irina present.

Though Irina hadn't been seriously interested in Carlisle, she'd certainly admired him, and as a result of her covetous attitude toward Cullen, she was now giving Esme the cold shoulder. Tanya had tried to make her sister's coolness less obvious by being even more friendly than was her wont, but she could see that Esme wasn't fooled. Nor did she seem particularly bothered by Irina's moodiness; if anything, though Esme was perfectly polite to her guests and obviously a very pleasant, humble person in general, Tanya thought that she seemed the tiniest bit smug about Irina's obvious jealousy.

"I love this house," Tanya said sincerely, gazing around at the collection of furnishings and paintings that filled the living room. "We visited once before, you know, when Carlisle and Edward first moved here. Their taste in decorating left something to be desired."

Esme laughed. "I daresay that it didn't change much between the time you first saw this place and when I came here. After my first month or so, once I'd started to feel more in control of myself, I think I was preoccupied with redecorating almost as much as I was with thirst."

"This place was rather depressing then," Tanya mused, remembering the mostly bare walls and floors, the empty rooms, and the abandoned garden behind the house. "You could tell the minute you walked in the door that two men lived here, and that neither of them really cared how the house or yard looked so long as they knew where the books they wanted were and where their clothes were kept. Now it looks like a proper home."

Esme smiled, pleased. "Thank you. It's been a lot of fun to move things around and experiment with different colors and designs in different rooms. Besides, it's something that makes staying inside most of the time more bearable, and it's something to keep me busy if Carlisle and Edward are both gone. I still don't quite trust myself to go hunting alone."

"Things like that will improve with time. You know, I often forget how young you are," Tanya said kindly. "My sisters and I were far wilder our first few years—of course, we weren't trying to abstain back then. Doing so from the beginning like you and Edward and Carlisle have done seems harder to me. When I think back on my newborn years, I have no doubt that my life is better this way. But if I didn't have that old life to compare this one too, I think it would be harder to resist."

Esme shrugged uncomfortably. "I certainly know how tempting the smell of humans can be. Carlisle changes clothes before he comes home from the hospital, but I can still smell them…I don't even like to get too close to humans yet, and the idea of resisting their blood, if I could smell it…" Esme shuddered, and Tanya shook her head. When she'd been a newborn, she would have laughed at Esme's horror at the idea of killing someone. Now she could sympathize, but

"Well, you're certainly doing well so far," Tanya said encouragingly, not adding that most people, Carlisle being the exception, usually slipped within their first few years of trying to abstain. Edward hadn't killed anyone yet though—maybe Esme would share in his combination of good fortune and magnificent self restraint. "And now that you're married, I daresay you have other things to distract you from thirst."

Tanya grinned at Esme's expression, which was embarrassed and amused in equal measure. "It's…yes, Carlisle and I are very happy," Esme said at last, smiling a little herself, and Tanya laughed.

"I can see you're happy. And Carlisle's like a different person since he found you. I'm honestly he surprised he didn't marry you sooner."

"Thank you, Tanya," Esme said, suddenly looking a bit uneasy. "It's good to see all of you, but do you think…I mean, is Irina as angry with me as I think she is?"

"No, I don't think she's angry exactly. She'll come around," Tanya said confidently. "You're a hard person not to like, Esme. Irina is just a little jealous of you at the moment. So am I, honestly."

Esme looked surprised. "You are?"

"Not of your marrying Carlisle," Tanya said, laughing. "It's just hard to look at the two of you together and not feel a little envious. My sisters and I have been on our own for centuries—yes, we have each other, but having a mate is something different, something more than what we have. You can see it with Carmen and Eleazar too. The way that two mates move together, are drawn to each other…that's something special."

"You've…been in love before, haven't you?" Esme said shyly, and Tanya laughed again. Either Edward or Carlisle, though they were both perfect gentleman, had obviously hinted at her storied past.

"I've had lovers, yes. Many of them. But in all my hundreds of years, I've never

looked at anyone the way you look at Carlisle. I've never felt that way before."

Tanya realized as she spoke that she felt a little sad about this. Loving someone the way that Esme loved Carlisle wasn't something that Tanya had ever known, so she couldn't miss it exactly, but she had observed enough of the way they felt about each other that she did feel a hint of the envy that Irina was consumed by at the moment. But of course, Edward didn't have a mate yet…

"Does Edward ever mention me?" Tanya asked lightly, and Esme smiled.

"Sometimes. He's been hoping that all of you would visit when we got back from our honeymoon. I think he was a little lonely while we were gone."

Tanya smiled, satisfied with this. Edward wasn't ever going to be her mate, she knew that—they simply weren't drawn to each other that way. But Tanya thought that they would enjoy each other's company if Edward ever…but no. Edward was too much like Carlisle that way. Never mind that he was young and still preoccupied with learning to control his thirst—like his adopted father, Edward was old fashioned in the sense that he wouldn't enter into a physical relationship with a woman he didn't really love. He would feel guilty, never mind that Tanya wouldn't. After living for over nine hundred years, Tanya thought it was a bit silly not to enjoy everything that life had to offer—Edward's scruples seemed more than a little inconvenient to her, but then, at least they were his scruples, and not hers.

"Well, I'm very glad that you and Carlisle had such a nice honeymoon," Tanya said, and Esme's expression took on that look of pleasure mixed with embarrassment again.

"I think that Edward might have preferred we stay away a little longer, actually," Esme said quietly, her smile sheepish. "It's…uncomfortable for him, hearing our thoughts."

"I certainly don't envy Edward his talent when you put it that way," Tanya said, chuckling. "That's why it can be a bit trying for him to be around us—he doesn't like to hear the things we remember…"

"We're back," Edward called from the back door. "So I'd appreciate it if the two of you would lower the volume or change the tone of your thoughts, please."

Tanya and Esme both laughed, though poor Esme seemed a bit rueful. It was hard for Edward, certainly, but Tanya thought that it would also be hard to be a newlywed living with a mind reader. Just then, Carlisle's steps could clearly be heard approaching the front door, and Esme jumped up to greet him as the door swung open. Tanya smiled as Edward came into the room just long enough to see his parents kissing before hurrying up the stairs to join Carmen and Eleazar in the library. She followed him—it wasn't often that the new couple had a moment of privacy now that their house was full of guests.

Glancing back at them when she reached the top of the stairs, Tanya smiled ruefully at their expressions as she watched Carlisle and Esme staring at each other, entranced. No, she had never known that feeling before—would she have to live another nine hundred years before she did? Tanya shook her head—with that attitude, soon she'd be in as foul a mood as Irina. It was true that she hadn't found a mate yet, but who could say that she wouldn't in the future? Even now, her mate could be somewhere, and all that remained was to meet him…somewhere, someday.


	117. Failure

Hi everyone! Sorry that (if you're subscribed to the "Story Alert" for "Eternity") you received three new chapter announcements last week—there were only two, I just forgot how to update a chapter without deleting it and then reposting it…yeah, I remember now. Both of today's chapters are a bit sad; they take place during the time that Edward lived on his own, and they both concern Esme trying (and sometimes failing) to control her thirst. Thanks for all your great reviews, and after this one, I'll be posting an Esme chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't wait to watch "Eclipse" again.

_1928_: Failure

Carlisle's POV

It was still dark outside, though sunrise was fast approaching, and for several hours now, Carlisle had been sitting in a chair in the room he shared with Esme, waiting for her to come home. It had been an awful week: Esme had slipped, for the first time in several years, and killed a man while hunting. Carlisle had been only a few yards away when she'd caught the man who'd wandered out of what had looked like an abandoned hunting cabin, stinking of alcohol and ill health; he'd been downwind of them, so Carlisle hadn't smelled a human nearby, and his heartbeat had been erratic, too fast for that of a healthy human—Carlisle had assumed that they'd stumbled upon a sick animal until the smell had hit his nose. Apparently, the man had cut himself recently, and Esme, too engrossed in hunting to stop herself, had been unable to resist such easy prey when she'd caught the faint but ever so tantalizing scent of human blood.

In the second it had taken Carlisle to close the distance between them, Esme had broken the man's neck and begun to drain his body of blood. She'd tried to stop—Carlisle had seen her eyes widen the moment that the madness of bloodlust began to fade and she realized what she'd done—she'd even tried to pry the man's throat away from her mouth, but even when Carlisle attempted to gently pull her away, her jaws had simply tightened their hold on the man, and Esme had only been able to disengage herself from the corpse when all of the man's blood was gone.

After that, Esme didn't speak for days. Carlisle arranged for the man to be buried, after seeking and finding no next of kin, and though he was relieved that the facts of the man's death were so easily concealed—Rochester's newspaper barely noted the death, which was a attributed to a bear attack by the coroner—he was deeply worried about Esme. He'd held her, and told her that it was all right, that it wasn't all right, but still she didn't speak, and Carlisle soon began to fear that he simply didn't know how to comfort her properly; if he had been in Esme's place, he had no idea what he'd want her to say to him.

The guilt that seemed to radiate from her was almost palpable, and though Carlisle didn't dare leaver her to go to work, his presence seemed to do no good. She'd avoided him all week, no small feat since neither of them left the house, and she hadn't once met his eyes since the night she'd killed the man. Now, six days after that awful night, Esme was gone.

She'd announced, just after sunset the previous evening, her voice low and her eyes still downcast, that she was going for a walk. Carlisle had asked if he could go with her, and she'd said,

"No. I need to be alone."

And then she'd left. After she'd shut the door behind her, Carlisle had wandered the empty house for only a few minutes before going up to their room to wait. Looking out their bedroom window, Carlisle could see the place where the front yard ended and the forest began. That was where he imagined her reappearing when she was ready to come back. But as hours passed and morning approached, he'd begun to doubt that she would come home that night, which made him wonder when exactly she _would_ return…_if_ she would.

Carlisle tried not to think about it. He tried to focus on the texture of the wood that made up the window frame a few feet away, the minute patterns on the wallpaper, invisible to the human eye, the individual fibers of the curtains…but really, he was afraid. For hours, he tried to suppress the thought, but as the sky began to turn a pale blue in the east, all he could think was that he was a failure.

_First Edward, now Esme_, he thought, the grief he felt more numbing in its immensity than painful at the moment._ I couldn't help—I wanted to save them both, so I forced this life upon them. And it's made them miserable. I shouldn't be surprised that they'd want to get away from me. It's just a wonder that it didn't happen sooner. How could I have ever presumed to try to be a father, or a husband—after so many years alone, what made me think that I belonged with others of my kind? That I could be worthy of their love? A monster like me…only deserves to be alone._

It was awful to consider the extent of his failure; Carlisle loved Esme and Edward more than anything, but he hadn't been able to spare Edward the anguish of having to hear others' thoughts at all times, and he hadn't been able to save Esme from the grief it caused her to take human lives. When she'd slipped before, Carlisle had cursed himself for unwittingly straying too close to humans, and he'd vow never to be so careless again. But then months or years would pass, Carlisle would watch as Esme comfort around humans improved, and so it would always be unexpected when her control slipped again. The smell of human blood just appealed to her so strongly, and Carlisle couldn't blame her for being tempted the same way had once. When he'd been new to this life, it had simply been easier to avoid contact with humans. It was harder to find true wilderness now, and though Esme had seemed reluctant to accept this justification in the past, eventually, she'd forgiven herself (and Carlisle) for the accidental death of a human, and they'd both moved on, determined not to let such a thing happen again.

But this time…the quiet way that Esme had left, without saying goodbye, filled Carlisle with dread. Maybe she wouldn't be able to forgive him this time. Maybe after this most recent death, life with him had become intolerable, just as it had for Edward…and perhaps she thought would be happier without him. And perhaps she would be.

As Carlisle considered all this, he knew he might be mistaken—Esme might simply need some time to herself. However, this rational explanation was utterly dwarfed by the pain and fear he felt at the thought of losing her. The loss of Edward had been bad enough, but he'd tried to bear it for Esme's sake—they'd borne that loss together until now, each of them hoping that he might come home someday, and fearing that he wouldn't. But without Esme…Carlisle felt lost. There was nothing he wanted to do but wait for her, nowhere he wanted to go but to wherever she was now. He had nothing without Esme.

Carlisle continued to wait as the sun rose, staring out their bedroom window and hoping that any minute now, she would appear. The feeling of having failed her was growing worse every minute, but he couldn't move. All he could do for her now was wait, and he refused to fail in that.


	118. Equals

Hi again! This chapter takes place the day after the previous one, and it offers a look at Esme's feelings about killing a human, and how much she wishes for better self control. I'll see you again next weekend with two new chapters—hope you have a great week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of "Twilight," which I'm going to start rereading on my Kindle tonight! Hooray!

_1928_: Equals

Esme's POV

As she drained her eighth deer of the night, Esme glanced up at the stars with a sigh. She'd been away for over a day now, and she knew that Carlisle would be worried—they hadn't been apart this long since they'd been married. After all, neither of them had ever wanted to be away from the other before. But last night, Esme had been desperate to get away from Carlisle.

It wasn't his fault. She'd just felt so bad about what she'd done—she'd killed a man, _again_—and the fact that Carlisle had never made such a mistake when she herself had slipped several times filled her with self-loathing. Why couldn't she be as strong as he was? Even when he'd embraced her in the days following her mistake, she'd felt about a thousand miles away from him. She was a murderer several times over, and the more he'd comforted her, the more miserable and unworthy of him she'd felt. She didn't deserve a man as good as Carlisle, and so she'd had to get away from him for a little while to think, though she'd done more hunting than thinking today. Every time she drained a deer, she wondered how long it would be before the red in her pupils went away.

Carlisle, who had never killed anyone, who had in fact spent hundreds of years saving lives, couldn't understand the depth of guilt and sorrow that she was feeling now. After all, she'd been a vampire for close to a decade now. Edward had never slipped the way she had, and neither had Carlisle, which begged the question: was there something wrong with her? Why hadn't she learned to better control her thirst by now? And now that she'd killed a human yet again, how could Carlisle even stand to look at her? How could he try to comfort her for what she'd done, and how could she go back to him, knowing that she might make the same mistake again?

She'd been angry at Carlisle before—never because of anything he'd done, honestly—but she'd lashed out at him in the past when she'd waited too long to hunt. To her profound amazement, however, he never seemed to get angry with her; no matter what she did, he reacted with patience and compassion. And after this most recent lapse, Esme had found his patience unbearable; she wanted him to be angry, to tell her what a horrible thing she'd done. She felt that she deserve to have him hate her as much as she hated herself, and so the fact that he'd forgiven so readily had made her feel even more undeserving of him than she had before.

After another deer, Esme sighed again. Wallowing in her feelings of inadequacy wasn't going to bring the poor man she'd killed back from the dead, and it wasn't going to stop her from slipping again. She still felt guilty, but the day to herself had made her realize that guilt wasn't enough; if she wanted to stop giving in to her thirst, and if she wanted to deserve Carlisle, she would have to do the hardest thing she could think of at the moment: she would have to go home and try again to learn to control herself. Staying in the forest and laying waste to the local deer population wasn't a viable solution—it was only a means of avoiding what really needed to be done. As had happened eventually after every deadly accident before this one, Esme took a deep breath and told herself that it was time to stop feeling sorry for herself and time to do what had to be done. She would have to try to go on with her life, to replace her guilt with a determination to do better, to _be_ better, not just for Carlisle, but for herself.

So she ran home. Once she took her first step back toward the house, it was surprisingly easy to continue in that direction. Never mind that she still felt unworthy of Carlisle—she missed him terribly, and now that she felt able to think of anything but her own grief for the first time in days, she wondered what he'd thought about the way she'd left, and what he'd done her absence.

Carlisle met her at the door, and Esme felt a pang when she realized he looked as bad as she felt.

"You're back," he said in a small voice, and Esme, abruptly miserable again, but for a very different reason than before, realized that she'd scared him. Until now, she hadn't realized how much her departure must have resembled Edward's.

_He thought he was alone again,_ Esme thought with a pang, and then she embraced him, sobbing against his chest, and as she cried, Esme thought she felt Carlisle's shoulders shaking too. After awhile, they went inside, both of them quiet, but Esme at least felt better than before. It was a comfort now, rather than yet another source of guilt, to know that Carlisle would always be there for her.

Without a word, they went up to their room together and lay down on the bed. The house was dark and silent, and as Esme pressed her face against Carlisle's shirt again, she felt for the first time in days that being alone with him was a blessing, not an inescapable reminder of her failings. Somehow, it seemed that he'd forgiven her yet again, and now she felt more grateful than inadequate. Still, it made her wince to think of what he must have been thinking while she'd been gone.

"I'm sorry I left the way I did," she whispered at last.

"Please, don't apologize," he whispered back. "All I could think while you were gone is that I'd want to get away from me too, if I were you."

Esme sighed and lifted her head to glare at him. "I was afraid you were thinking something like that. You aren't the one who's done anything wrong, here, Carlisle."

Carlisle shook his head, his expression impossibly sad and ancient on his youthful face. "I just don't know what to say, Esme."

"That makes two of us, then," Esme said quietly. "I…Carlisle, I made a mistake. When I left, it was because I just needed to feel bad for awhile. I deserve to feel guilty for what I've done, and when you tried to make me feel better, I only felt worse, because I felt like I didn't deserve you."

Carlisle opened his mouth to speak, but Esme covered his lips with her hand. "Wait, just a minute. The last time I made a mistake like this, I promised myself that it would never happen again—that I was still only a few years old, and you and Edward had prepared me for the idea that I might slip. But this time, I had no excuses, no way to justify what I'd done. And I'm not going to try to anymore. I did something wrong, and I'm grieving for the man I killed, and my own weakness, and now I need you to let me feel bad about this for awhile. I'm going to try to get better—I'm never going to stop trying, and someday maybe I'll be able to resist as well as you can, but until then, I can't let you try to comfort me for every mistake I make. I need you to be honest with me, and admit that I've done something wrong, and then to help me to improve my control. Don't treat me like your equal when it comes to self restraint. I'm not, in this or many other things. All right?"

Esme removed her hand from his mouth and looked at him intently.

"All right," Carlisle said quietly. "And I'm sorry, Esme. I don't think about how young you are, and I'm careless sometimes, because I see how well you're doing, and then accidents like this happen. If you do slip again, I won't try to soothe you with platitudes, or act as though nothing's wrong. I'll try to do better too, and give you the space and time you need to grieve without my interference. It's true, I don't know how you feel right now, but I'm here to help you, whenever you need help. And," Carlisle said, suddenly looking slightly exasperated, "you are my equal. In everything else."

Esme shook her head and stared down at the quilt. "Don't say that. It isn't true."

"How do you mean?" Carlisle said, a flash of irritation clear in his voice.

Esme looked up at him, surprised. "I'm not…" she trailed off. What could she say? She wasn't as smart as he was, or as well traveled. Her life as a human and her life as a vampire had been a series of failed efforts to improve herself and escape from suffering. Esme thought her shortcomings had always been painfully obvious, so she said nothing, and instead went back to staring down at the quilt beneath them.

Carlisle seemed to guess what she was thinking though, and when she glanced up at him, she saw his eyes narrow. "You really don't think you deserve me?" he whispered, sounding shocked by the very idea.

"I don't," Esme whispered miserably, feeling like she was going to cry again, but before she could, Carlisle flipped her onto her back, and was suddenly kissing her fiercely, his mouth moving against hers frantically before he paused to trail kisses down her throat, lingering on the spot where he'd bitten her years ago. Esme gasped and wrapped her arms around him without thinking, forgetting her sorrow as his mouth returned to hers, and for a long time, they simply clung to each other, their mouths sealed together as though each would never part from the other's lips again.

"Esme," he whispered when he finally pulled away, though really his voice was closer to a growl. "Do you have any idea how lost I felt when you left? I'm the one who doesn't deserve you, not the other way round! When I thought of all the things I've done wrong, all the times I couldn't be what you needed me to be, I was certain you weren't going to come back, and I was terrified. I can hardly bear to exist without you! But even after giving you this life without your consent, and failing to help you restrain your thirst, somehow you still forgive me—you still love me. I'm the undeserving one in this situation."

Esme was silent for a moment—now it was her turn to be shocked. "It's…you do realize that you sound a bit delusional right now, don't you?"

"We'll agree to disagree then," Carlisle said, smiling slightly. "You think I'm a bit delusional when it comes to how I feel about you, and vice versa. Now please, promise me that if you ever have to leave like that again, warn me if possible, or at least tell me that you'll come back, even if you aren't really sure that you will."

Esme returned his smile, shaking her head at him at wonder. "I promise. And I'll always come back."

"Thank you," Carlisle said, looking relieved and satisfied in equal measure as he lowered his mouth to hers again. It was a long time before Esme could think clearly again, but when she could, Esme thought with amazement that Carlisle really did see them as equals. Though she couldn't quite agree with him yet, she was determined to prove him right—she would learn to resist the pull of human blood, and then perhaps she would be his equal, in every sense. Until then, she could enjoy the fact that at least they were equals when it came to loving one another.


	119. Perfect

Hi everyone! Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews of the last two chapters—I really enjoyed writing them, so I was glad to hear that people enjoyed reading them. :) I'll try to do more similar chapters in the future, but this week's updates both have Carlisle and Esme sort of on the periphery; in this first one, Rosalie and Emmett are talking the night before their first wedding, and Rosalie recalls the way she killed Royce, and what she worried Emmett would think of her when she told him about it. Stay tuned for another chapter after this one!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I know I shouldn't read "Twilight" on my laptop (through Kindle) while I'm in class…but yeah, I've been doing that a little bit lately. :)

_1935_: Perfect

Rosalie's POV

Twelve hours before the wedding, everything was ready. Esme had cleaned and decorated the house in a grand style; all of the Cullens would meet the Denalis at the church in town a little before nine the next morning, and then Rosalie and Emmett would be married. There would be a short reception back at the house, and then they would set out on their honeymoon. Esme had already found them a house of their own—Rosalie hadn't seen it yet, but she was confident that Esme's sense of style (and her knowledge of Rosalie's own taste in matters of decorating) would serve her well. Rosalie was excited: at long last, in spite of the terrible way her human life had ended, she was going to get most of the life she'd always wanted. This time tomorrow, she would have a wonderful husband, and they would be alone together in a house of their very own.

Emmett was away at the moment; Carlisle and Edward had taken him out for a bachelor party, which Emmett had assured her would consist of nothing more than a quick hunting trip, and though Esme would have been glad to keep her company, Rosalie stayed in her room with the door shut. As happy as she'd felt ever since Emmett had asked her to marry him, she'd also been nervous—not about Emmett, but about the wedding itself. She couldn't quite believe that it was really going to happen, and Rosalie thought that until she _was_ married, the brief time she'd known Emmett and the way they felt about each other would seem a bit like a dream, something that she'd wished for for so long that it was hard to trust that it would soon be a reality.

Just then, someone knocked on the window, and Rosalie smiled. She'd been pacing her room ever since the boys had left, but now she turned to the window and opened it so Emmett could jump inside.

"Hi," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her.

Rosalie laughed a little breathlessly. "Back so soon? I was afraid you'd be out half the night."

"Nah, after I drained a couple bears, we were all ready to come home. I was sort of impatient, really. I figured you'd be up here alone, and I didn't want to keep you waiting."

Rosalie smiled and kissed him again. "Thanks."

"We could go down and look at the decorations if you want," Emmett offered. "I looked inside before I came up here, and Esme was just finishing the—"

"No," Rosalie said firmly. "I'm sure Esme will do a wonderful job, and anyway, I want everything but the groom to be a surprise tomorrow."

Emmett laughed. "All right then. But if we stay up here alone all night, I'm definitely not going to be much of a surprise to you tomorrow night."

Rosalie giggled. "Don't worry, I'll try to behave myself. Your virtue is safe with me."

"Thanks," Emmett chuckled, "and likewise."

Rosalie almost pointed out that she didn't have much virtue to defend in the traditional sense, but she couldn't speak lightly about that, tonight especially. Rosalie couldn't look at him when she spoke, but instead she smoothed away an invisible wrinkle in Emmett's shirt as she asked, "you really don't mind? I mean, about…Royce?"

Emmett was silent for a moment, but when he spoke, he practically snarled, "that guy's just lucky that you killed him before I had the chance to." Then he lifted Rosalie's chin gently so she had to look at him, his voice more controlled now. "And no, I don't _mind_, Rose. Why would the way you died stop me from loving you? You didn't do anything wrong. Tell me you haven't been worrying about this, because if you have, I'm just going to have to kiss you and explain, in detail, how hopelessly in love with you I am, and how nothing else matters to me, until you stop worrying about this once and for all."

Rosalie smiled and embraced him, the nervous feeling she'd had all evening quickly fading. "Sorry, I just had to ask again." She'd asked him this question before, on the night that Emmett had first asked her to marry him. At the time, she hadn't said yes right away. She'd been elated by the question, but then she'd thought of the way she'd died, and the way she'd taken revenge on her killers…and she'd decided that before she could give him an answer, she had to tell Emmett about that.

Emmett had already known how she'd died, but no one had given him the details of how she'd killed Royce and the others, though Edward's memories of those events must be nearly as clear as hers by now. Rosalie had told Emmett about how she'd hunted the men down, one by one. In just a few weeks time, she'd killed them all, usually quickly, so she'd have no chance to be tempted by the scent of their blood. But it had been different with Royce. Before following him to the place he'd gone to hide from her, she'd gorged herself on as many deer as she could find. Then she'd broken into a bridal shop in the dead of night, trying on several dresses before she found one that fit just right. She'd styled her hair, pinning it up before donning a beautiful veil, and then she'd slipped on a pair of delicate shoes with tiny white bows on the tops before setting off to kill Royce King.

On the way to Royce's hiding place, she also stopped to collect some white roses from a florist's—Rosalie had thought that the sight of her in the wedding dress, her eyes a brilliant crimson, would be enough to scare Royce half to death, but when she saw those roses in the shop window, she'd decided that the flowers were a pleasant final touch that completed the macabre picture she'd created for her killer. The men Royce had hired to protect him were easily dealt with—she regretted their deaths, since they'd done nothing to her but stand in the way of her killing Royce, so she'd tried to finish them as quickly and painlessly as possible. Royce, of course, had been another story. After she'd broken the lock, she'd let the door swing open, very slowly, before she'd stepped inside to face him.

"Royce?" she'd called sweetly. "Royce, honey?"

He was cowering on the floor a few feet away, a bottle in his hand. That had annoyed her a bit—she'd wanted him with his wits about him when he saw her-she'd wanted him to think he'd gone mad when he first caught a glimpse of her dress, and her eyes. But instead, he'd been a little drunk. He was sober by the time he'd died though-all the bones she'd broken, all the little injuries she'd inflicted while being careful not to draw blood, had shown him, in no uncertain terms, that he was the helpless one that night. And Rosalie had been very pleased with her revenge, because Royce King had died hating her, and fearing her, and knowing that he was too weak to stop her from killing him.

Rosalie had felt better after telling Emmett about that night, but she'd been apprehensive too. She'd wondered if Emmett had really considered the way those men had violated her…and how in return, she'd ended their lives in a coldly calculated way. And she was glad she had. She'd told Emmett the story of Royce's death in particular detail because she'd wondered how he would feel about her obvious satisfaction with what she'd done—could he still love her, knowing how happy she was whenever she thought about the way she'd killed the men who'd killed her?

"I'm glad you did all that," Emmett had said when she'd finally finished her story. "Though I guess I'm a little sorry that I wasn't around then to kill them for you. I would have been really happy if I'd at least been able to help out with that."

Rosalie had felt more than relief when she'd heard that—she'd loved Emmett more in that moment than she'd thought it was possible to love anyone, because she saw that he didn't just accept her—he loved all of her: her beauty, her strength, and her violence too. Carlisle and Esme allowed Esme's former husband to live, on the grounds that neither would have felt right about killing him—doing so, they both thought, would bring them down to his level. But Emmett wasn't like them—Emmett was more like her, in the sense that he understood that there were just some things you couldn't forgive, some people who didn't deserve mercy. So that night, she'd told him yes, she would marry him, since they could apparently love each other, bloodthirsty predilections and all, and now here they were, counting down the hours until the day of the wedding finally arrived.

"What, is the bride having pre-wedding jitters?" Emmett teased.

"No, I've just had too much time to think today," Rosalie said. "Now that everything's all planned and ready for tomorrow, all I can do is wait. And it's…strange, knowing that we're going to be married tomorrow. A good kind of strange," she said quickly, before he could pretend to be offended. "I just mean that I'm having a hard time trusting reality at the moment. When I found you…it seemed like too much to hope for that you could ever feel anything for me."

"Yeah, it would be really weird of me to love the most amazing, beautiful woman in the world," Emmett said, rolling his eyes and pulling her toward the bed where they could sit down together. "Come on, let's just sit here and wait for tomorrow together. Believing that we're really getting married in a few hours is sort of hard for me too, but it'll be easier if you're sitting next me all night."

Rosalie smiled. "That'll help me too. If we can really manage to just sit here and not do anything else..."

Emmett groaned and slid a little away from her, obviously trying to keep his hands to himself. "Let's talk about something else, okay? Like our house. Carlisle took me there a few days ago, and it's really—"

"Sorry, but I want that to be a surprise too," Rosalie said, sliding close to him again. "Do you think it will take a while to drive there tomorrow?"

"It's only a few minutes on foot, so it's probably an hour or so by car," Emmett said, putting his arm around her. "You know they're going to want us to visit them a lot, since we'll be so close."

Rosalie nodded. "Esme's welcome to come and visit us. Carlisle and Edward…well, we'll see them here sometimes." Rosalie didn't like to think about it, but it bothered her when she considered the fact that the person she hated more than anyone else on earth was in fact paying for her wedding, and her new house. And of course, all of her new friends in the Denali clan were Carlisle's friends too—all this made it more than a little inconvenient that she felt no inclination to stop hating him, ever, but the fact that Carlisle seemed to accept her hatred as a matter of course made the situation strangely easier to bear. If he'd tried to befriend her, Rosalie was certain that she would have tried to do him serious physical harm by now, but since he was invariably quiet and polite in her presence, and since Esme loved him, and Rosalie did care for Esme, she'd had to satisfy herself with loathing him silently and without bodily harm.

"I already told him thank you from both of us," Emmett said quietly, squeezing her shoulder. "And Eleazar's going to give you away tomorrow."

"Good," Rosalie said quietly, relieved that she wouldn't be on Carlisle's arm in the church tomorrow, though she was annoyed that it was probably Carlisle himself who had tactfully suggested that Eleazar have that honor. "And thank you. I'll thank Esme tomorrow, assuming everything she's done doesn't awe me into silence."

"It might," Emmett said. "Everything looks really impressive downstairs…"

"You're not going to tempt me into peeking," Rosalie said, laughing. "I've waited this long, so I can wait a few hours more." Glancing at Emmett though, Rosalie wasn't sure that she could really wait a minute longer to marry him. For a moment she imagined, as she often did, what their children might have looked like, if she'd met Emmett when they'd both been human. If only she'd never known Royce—how wonderful it would have been to find Emmett instead. She wouldn't have been rich with him, and she imagined that her parents wouldn't have approved of the match, but they would have been happy, they would have had a family, they could have grown old together…

Rosalie shook her head. Who knew how many decades or centuries she was going to have to dream of and wish for impossible things. Tonight at least, she was simply going to be happy, and grateful that she'd found Emmett. In spite of the things she'd lost, and the chances she could never have now, when it came to her husband at least, her life from tomorrow onward was going to be perfect.


	120. Thirst

Hi again! This chapter concerns Jasper, and his thoughts about Carlisle and Esme after he and Alice have lived with the Cullens for a couple of years. As always, if you have any suggestions for chapters, please let me know; I always loved to hear your ideas, and in the next couple of weeks, I'll be doing at least one chapter inspired by a reader suggestion. Hope you have a great weekend, and I'll see you again next Sunday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm listening to the "New Moon" soundtrack while I type—delightful.

_1952_: Thirst

Jasper's POV

Though the black bear put up a fight when it suddenly found a strange predator's teeth at its throat, Japer quickly finished it and drained the carcass of the young animal, and then almost immediately begin sniffing the air, looking for more prey. Alice was a few yards away, perched in a tree and staring down into the valley below them while she waited for him—Alice, who was so much younger than he was, and who could already control herself so much more easily. Jasper sighed and quickly buried the carcass of the bear.

"There's some elk just west of us," Alice said, so he took off that way, Alice right behind him, though instead of running as he did, she amused herself by swinging from tree to tree, moving at impossible speed like a trapeze artist through the branches above. Jasper was exceedingly grateful for Alice's almost perpetually sunny mood—it was a pleasant contrast to his own often troubled feelings, especially today. He'd killed a human just yesterday, and though his mistake had been easily concealed—they'd taken a day trip to Minneapolis, which was a big enough city that the murder of an old homeless woman wouldn't cause alarm—Jasper was unhappy.

It was very jarring when he compared his new life to his old one: fifty years ago, he wouldn't have given the death of a nameless woman a second thought. Now he not only felt guilty about the murder, but he worried that his newfound family would come to consider him a burden if he couldn't learn to control himself. This was the fifth time he'd slipped since he and Alice had found the Cullens, and though everyone was very forgiving and encouraging, that in and of itself seemed like a cause for concern. Jasper could barely remember a time when he hadn't lived among predators, and it was hard to trust anyone who didn't live by the ruthless instincts of self-preservation to which he'd grown accustomed.

Carlisle and Esme in particular were quite possibly the strangest vampires he'd ever met. Jasper had never felt anything but kindness from them, yet it had taken him months to fully relax in the Cullen house after he and Alice first made themselves at home there. There was no reason for Carlisle to accept two strangers into his coven, and no reason for his mate to welcome interlopers with such good humor. The initial reactions of the other Cullens had been more natural; Edward, Emmett, and Rosalie had all been suspicious and incredulous at the way that Alice had simply declared herself one of them, but they'd quickly grown fond of Alice, and they accepted Jasper for her sake. But Carlisle and Esme were different; they genuinely liked him as well as they did Alice, and when he slipped…well, their reactions yesterday had been typical.

When he and Alice had returned home the night before, Edward had heard them thinking about what had happened before they even got inside, so Rosalie had already stormed up to her room in a huff by the time Alice had shut the front door. Edward was almost as angry, and Jasper couldn't really blame him; killing people accidentally was not inconspicuous behavior, and though it had happened far from home, in a city where it wasn't unheard of for a murder to occur, it was still risky. They'd only just relocated, and it would cause undue attention if they had to move again so soon after settling into this small community—North Dakota as a whole was not a terribly populous place, and if Jasper started to make mistakes here, their tiny town might soon be thrown into a panic.

Edward hadn't said anything of course—he'd sat at his piano, fuming and playing what sounded like a funeral dirge, while Emmett had followed Rosalie upstairs. He'd given Jasper a shrug as he passed—it was clear that Emmett didn't mind the occasional slip up, since he too made mistakes from time to time, though not so often as Jasper did. Carlisle and Esme, of course, had been nothing but sympathetic when Alice explained what had happened up in Carlisle's office.

"What did you do with the body?" Carlisle had asked calmly.

"I called the police from a pay phone," Alice had said, her clear voice equally relaxed. "I said that I'd just walked past a homeless woman who looked like she'd been attacked by a dog. Then I gave the address and hung up. I don't see anyone asking too many questions, or coming to claim the body."

"No family then?" Esme had asked quietly.

Alice shook her head, concentrating. "I'm not seeing a funeral…and the police investigation is going to be cursory at best."

"Jasper?" Esme said quietly. Jasper had been staring at the floor, trying to focus on the emotions of the others in the room instead of his own.

"She was just the sort of person I would have gone looking for if I'd been hunting intentionally," he'd explained. Finally, he'd looked up and met Carlisle's eyes. "Do you think some of us just

"You've met the Denalis," Carlisle had pointed out gently. "Tanya and her sisters lived on human blood for centuries before they even tried to abstain. I'm afraid that there's nothing you can do but keep trying, Jasper."

Jasper had nodded, relaxing a little when Alice silently took his hand. As they left the room, Esme had kissed him on the cheek, and after leaving the house, they'd gone hunting. Now it was the middle of the morning, and even after hours of gorging himself on blood, and feeling that he simply couldn't contain another drop of blood, he knew that if a human stepped into the clearing where he'd stopped to drain an elk, he would have been tempted by the scent of their blood. And perhaps he always would be.

"Centuries…" Jasper said quietly, thinking about the Denalis. "After all that time, I'm surprised that it even occurred to them to try to stop. But for you, I might not have thought if it for decades."

"But I found you, and I told you that didn't have to kill people anymore," Alice said gently, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning against his back as he buried the elk. "And now you're trying. No one expects you to be perfect, Jasper."

"The rest of you make it look so easy," Jasper muttered, wiping some dirt from his hands. Alice flitted to his side and handed him a handkerchief to clean some dust off his face.

"But it's not easy," she said softly, taking his free hand and examining the scars that covered it. "It was a lot harder for me before I found you. After the change was over, I could see your face, but I didn't know where you were, and I didn't understand that I might have to wait a while to meet you. I did know that I was thirsty though, so I hunted constantly, and usually I could keep away from humans and stick to animals, but sometimes…if I tried to ignore my visions—"

"Why would you do that?" Jasper wondered.

"Because I saw myself alone," Alice explained, kissing his hand. "And I saw you alone, and the Cullens far away, somewhere I couldn't quite make out yet, and it made me sad. So there were times when I tried to ignore what I saw, so sometimes I missed myself running into humans, and I made mistakes. We all have."

"Carlisle hasn't," Jasper said, shaking his head in amazement. "I never would have believed it before I met him—a vampire who's never killed a human. And Esme feels so guilty about the ones she's killed. They're almost…human, except they're better than humans because they could just as easily live like predators. That's what they are, what we all are, but they've chosen a completely different way of living. Much as I admire it though, I can't seem to follow their example."

"Don't worry," Alice said quietly, leaning against his shoulder. "They care about you, and don't expect you to be perfect. Carlisle and Esme will never think of you as a burden, and neither will I."

"Why not?" Jasper muttered. Much as he wanted to be comforted, he was having trouble believing Alice's reassuring words.

"Well, I love you, for starters," Alice said, kissing him on the cheek and standing on her toes so she could meet his eyes. "And they do too. You're their son now, you know. You're a Cullen just as much as I am now."

"Jasper Cullen?" Jasper said, smiling in spite of himself. "I thought I was going to be called Jasper Hale now, if Rosalie will agree to share her name."

"I think she'll agree," Alice said playfully. "Rosalie and I are friends, and she wouldn't want me kissing my brother."

"Rosalie doesn't like me," Jasper pointed out, smiling slightly. At times, her emotions seemed to consist of little more than lust for Emmett and annoyance with practically everyone else.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Rosalie doesn't like lots of people, and she'll adjust to having to share her last name with you. So, come on. Are you ready to go home?"

Jasper nodded, smiling a little. Yes, he had a home now, with people who accepted his continued problems with controlling his thirst, and who would continue to help him. And he had Alice, who was already leading the way toward home—nothing, even thirst, was ever strong enough to keep him from following her.


	121. Irritating

Hi everyone! This week's first chapter—there will be three of them today, since I had a little extra free time this week—is about Leah, and her feelings about the Cullens after "Breaking Dawn." (I imagine that she still wouldn't like vampires very much, and that any attempt on Carlisle's or Esme's part to be friendly would only annoy her). Thank you as always for your wonderful reviews, and stay tuned for two more chapters after this one! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and if I have time, I think I might watch "Twilight" tomorrow! We'll see...:)

_2007_: Irritating

Leah's POV

It was a humid, sunny day, and though Leah wasn't really enjoying being a wolf at the moment, it was preferable to being human. Of course, she _could_ go inside and hang out in the air-conditioned comfort of the Cullens' house, but unlike Seth and Jacob, the smell of leech still made Leah want to puke, and since they were both human at the moment, going for a nice long run in the woods around the Cullens' land was her best chance at having some privacy.

Leah was hungry, but not hungry enough to hunt. Hunting with Jacob had helped her to overcome some of her distaste for devouring raw meat, but without him, she couldn't quite bring herself to rely on instinct to the point that she could plunge her teeth into a deer and find any satisfaction in the taste of its still-warm flesh. And on a day like this, the carcass of any animal she killed would start to stink before she could finish eating and bury the remains of her kill. Leah usually loved her nose when she was a wolf—her sense of smell in this body was more useful than she ever could have imagined—but when she was trying to eat something, she hated the way that she could smell blood as it cooled and began to congeal, animal flesh as it slowly began to putrefy on a hot day…

She shook her head and ran faster, hurrying to the river, where at least she'd find brief respite from the heat. It was long past lunchtime, and though Leah briefly considered going home for dinner, as she swam across the river toward the Cullens' place, she dismissed the idea. Chief Swan would be there, as usual, and though Leah had nothing against Charlie Swan personally, she was annoyed that her mother had started dating again so soon after…well, Leah didn't like to think about her father's death. It had happened little over a year ago, and yet her mother had begun dating Chief Swan just months after it happened. And Seth, that traitor, had accepted the Chief without complaint. A _normal_ teenage boy would have rebelled, or would have at least disapproved of his mother's having a boyfriend so soon after the death of her husband, the father of her _two children_. But no, Seth was _happy_ for them, and Leah had to pretend she was too, at least in her mother's presence, if she didn't want to look like the immature child who couldn't deal with change.

Leah stepped out of the river and shook herself, sending water flying in every direction. Just then, she heard the sound of high-pitched laughter. Nessie was staring out the kitchen window of the Cullens' house, smiling and waving to her. To Leah's disgust, she actually had to repress the urge to wag her tail and trot over to the kid, who was obviously alerting Jacob to the fact that she was standing in the yard. Hurrying into the trees near the driveway, Leah hoped that Jacob wasn't about to step outside and say hello. She was in a bad mood, and having to talk to her cheerful idiot of an Alpha wasn't likely to improve matters.

Jacob didn't come outside though, and Leah could guess why: wonderful scents were wafting her way from the house, which could only mean that the bloodsuckers were cooking again. As far as Leah could tell, Esme and Bella did most of the cooking, though Edward and Nessie liked helping too. Carlisle was usually at work during mealtimes, and the others were slightly less than thrilled about feeding Jacob and often the rest of his pack at least once a day, every day. Leah couldn't blame them really-she wouldn't have been thrilled if bloodsuckers started camping out in her house every day, looking for a free meal.

Just then, Leah heard a car turn down the driveway. She moved toward a gap in the trees so she could watch Dr. Leech drive past the house and park in the garage. Before he stepped inside, Leah saw him leave a paper bag on the back porch. As soon as the door had shut behind him, Leah slipped into the yard and went around to the porch to investigate.

As she'd thought, it was a bag of clothes. The leeches—well, Carlisle and Esme at least, were actually _sympathetic_ to her continued disgust with their smell, and so they'd taken to buying her brand new clothes instead of trying to give her hand-me-downs from one of their daughters, or Bella Cullen. The thought of wearing Bella's old clothes was even more unpleasant to Leah than the idea of wearing leech clothes, but new clothes, in spite of their pleasant lack of stink, made her uncomfortable.

_At some point_, Leah thought grimly as she carried the bag of clothing into the woods with her teeth, _I'm going to have to thank them for this._ The very thought of having to say "thank you" to a bloodsucker almost ruined her appetite, but not quite.

By the time Leah had phased and dressed in the t-shirt and jeans, Esme Cullen had left a large plate of food on the back porch. Leah crept to the porch as quietly as she could as a human, then took the food and sat behind the garage, so no one could see her from the large windows at the back of the house while she ate. The food, as always, was delicious, and even the faint scent of leech was bearable when Leah reminded herself that now she could put off going home for a few more hours—she would wait until Chief Swan went back to his own house, and then she would go home to see her mother and Seth, who she knew would run home later too-at the moment, he was in the Cullens' house devouring his own plate of food. Her family would pretend that she wasn't in a bad mood, and she would pretend that being surrounded by happy, generous people, nearly all of whom seemed to be in love with someone who loved them back wasn't slowly driving her crazy. Leah would pretend that she wasn't absurdly grateful for the kindness of the leeches, who seemed to expect no thanks for the food and clothes they left out for her…and she would tell herself that Dr. Leech and his wife weren't starting to seem like friends.

_How messed up is it that all my friends and family are so happy lately that I can barely stand to be in the same room with them?_ Leah wondered, licking her plate clean before quietly returning it to the porch. Other than Seth, it really seemed like everyone she knew was happy and in love…and here she was, still the odd person out, the bitter loser who couldn't get over the past. Tomorrow maybe, she would go inside and thank Esme for dinner…but not tonight. Tonight, she was still too irritated with the weirdness of her life in general to admit to anyone that she was grateful that they put up with her…that they cared about her, in spite of her constant irritation with everyone, especially vampires who tried to be kind to her.


	122. Travels

Hi again! I love to imagine all the places that Carlisle and Esme might visit together, so here's a chapter about that. (I studied abroad in Japan a couple of years ago, and the places I describe below is both real and awesome :)). Hope you've had a great weekend, and look for one more chapter after this one. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 291 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1…and only 655 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 2…okay, I'm gonna go sulk about that now…

_1985_: Travels

Esme's POV

It was June, the rainy season in Japan, which was why Esme had wanted to take a trip to Kyoto and see some of the temples that she'd been admiring in books for years. She and Carlisle had been to Japan before, years ago, but that had been a relatively short trip, and they'd mostly visited landmarks in Tokyo and Osaka before going home. This time, they would be staying for a month, and just a week into their trip, Esme was ecstatic about all the places they'd visited so far, all the sketches she'd done, and all the designs she'd been inspired to get started on when they got home.

One afternoon, on the way back to their hotel in the relatively small town of Hikone, they stopped in Nara to see the Todaiji temple—they'd already been there once, and though it felt a bit silly going to see a place for a second time when she could remember their first visit with perfect clarity, Esme was happy they'd come again. The temple itself hadn't changed much in the past few hundred years, but the grounds around it were always alive with people, many of whom enjoyed feeding the tame deer that roamed the grounds around the temple with biscuits and other treats that vendors sold everywhere. Carlisle and Esme sat on a bench in an adjacent park, careful to stay well away from the deer—it wouldn't do for any humans to notice the normally friendly animals giving them a wide berth. At this distance, however, the faint scent of vampire on the breeze was ignored by the deer, who were busily communing with a class of schoolchildren wielding biscuits.

"What's your favorite place we've visited so far?" Carlisle asked, setting down the umbrella they shared during intermittent rain showers and putting his arm around her.

Esme smiled. "It's hard to pick just one…I like it here, because it's so much fun to watch the people and the deer mingling like this, with no notion of predator or prey. And the temple's so beautiful. It's difficult to imagine something so huge being built without machines."

Carlisle nodded. "The last time Tanya called, when I told her we were planning this trip, she wasn't impressed. She said that if we wanted to see something old and picturesque, all we had to do was visit her in Denali."

Esme laughed. "It was so much fun going to Rome with those three. Kate and Irina especially seemed to love pointing out all the remains of buildings that were older than they were."

Carlisle chuckled too. "That's part of why I like coming to places like this. I always feel old in America, but in Europe and Asia, it seems that everywhere you look, there's something that's at least a few years older than I am. So far on this trip, I think the Byodoin temple was my favorite place."

Esme rolled her eyes. "That temple's almost a thousand years old! You're positively youthful by comparison."

"Exactly," Carlisle said, his expression mischievous. "I had a great time imagining how put out the Denalis would have been if they'd heard the tour guide going on about how old the structure is was. It's younger than they are."

They both laughed, but Esme soon fell silent. "It's hard to imagine being that old," she said thoughtfully. "In spite of all the amazing things they've seen in their lives, I don't envy those three their age."

"Neither do I," Carlisle said, leaning over and kissing her on the forehead. "Two and half centuries was a long enough time to wait for you, though you were well worth the wait. Those three have enjoyed immortality for the most part, but I think they'd all like to find a mate someday."

"They all insist that they enjoy their flings with humans, but I think you're right," Esme said, giving Carlisle a playful look. "Too bad Edward—"

Carlisle kissed her before she could suggest, jokingly, that Edward give Tanya a chance. After decades of flirting on Tanya's side, it was perfectly clear that Edward wasn't interested in a relationship with her, but Tanya's persistence was impressive, if a little exasperating.

"Sorry, but I can never make that joke at home," Esme said when they finally separated. "And wanting him to fall in love with someone isn't going to make it happen."

"He'll find someone," Carlisle said confidently. "Whenever I worry about Edward, I just remind myself how I found you, and how it happened long after I'd decided that such a thing was impossible."

Esme smiled a little sadly. "You know, I've often wished that I'd been born sooner. You wouldn't have had to be alone for so long, and there are so many places like this we could have visited together..."

"Well, now we're making up for lost time," Carlisle said, leaning down to kiss her again.

Esme was smiling again when he moved away. "Thank you again for taking such a long vacation. I know the hospital wasn't thrilled when you told them how long you planned to be away."

"Only because they've gotten so used to my never taking a vacation," Carlisle said, shaking his head. "And my own desire to give the humans I work with as much help as I can doesn't help matters."

"You want them to have the chance to take a break, since you don't get tired the same way they do. There's nothing wrong with that," Esme said with a shrug-her own sometimes obsessive immersions in art and architecture projects made the very thought of scolding Carlisle for being a workaholic ridiculous. "Besides, we have forever to take vacations together. Humans only have so many years for doing things like this."

"Still, this trip has reminded me that just because we have forever doesn't mean that we should _wait_ forever to do things like this."

"The only time I ever wished we'd waited to take a trip was the first time we flew," Esme said, grinning at the memory. "Remember how terrified I was just before the plane took off?"

"I was pretty nervous then myself," Carlisle said with a smile. "I knew all the science behind air travel, but it still seemed so counter-intuitive that anything so big could fly that I was sure we were going to crash."

"And now it seems perfectly natural to take a plane if we're going far away," Esme said, "though I've had a lot of fun taking the train since we've been here."

"Before I bought my first car, I loved to take the train somewhere every few weeks, just for the fun of it," Carlisle said fondly. "When the western states were first being settled, it always amazed me to ride through the mountains and plains and see how quickly towns and settlements were growing. And it was fun to get off at a station with a crowd of humans and then disappear into the wilderness to hunt some buffalo. I had a lot of human competition though."

Esme laughed. "It's easier to understand humans hunting buffalo than hunting rats. Then again, on long sea voyages, I suppose any sort of fresh meat was better than none at all." She remembered Carlisle telling her once of how he'd traveled on ships where humans had gone after rats and sold the meat from the animals they caught to one another. As a human, the mental picture of that would have doubtless made her feel ill, but now that she was a carnivore, Esme could understand—she'd tried rat before, just to see what it tasted like, and though their blood left much to be desired in the taste department, better to snack on a rat than a human.

Carlisle nodded. "When I first came to America, I ate nothing but rats for weeks, and by the time we reached our destination, the sailors were upset that our vessel's rat population had all but disappeared."

Esme laughed, and then she picked up their umbrella, opening it as the smattering of droplets that had been falling for several seconds now began to increase in number.

"Back to the hotel?" Carlisle asked, standing up and taking the umbrella to hold it over both of them. "We can come back here again if you'd like. Nara's so close to Kyoto that we might as well stop again after we go to see Ryuon-ji and Kinkaku-ji"

Esme stood up and took the arm he offered her, smiling at the thought of the pages she'd filled in her sketchbook that day, and all the pictures she'd taken. That had been fun, certainly, but having so much time to be with Carlisle was, as always, her favorite part of the trip. And Todai-ji was, for the moment at least, her favorite place, because she'd visited it with him, and there they'd talked about places they'd been to before, and Esme at least had thought about all the places they might travel to together in the future.

"Go on ahead for a moment," Carlisle said, removing something from Esme's bag. "I'll be right behind you."

Esme smiled, guessing what he was doing, and sure enough, she heard the tell-tale click of their camera when she was a few yards ahead of him.

"Don't you have enough pictures of me by now?" Esme said playfully when he rejoined her.

"That, I think, will turn out to be a beautiful picture of you holding an umbrella and walking toward some trees," Carlisle said, taking her arm again and returning the camera. "It was very artistic. And no, I don't have enough pictures of you yet, and I don't think I ever will. All my favorite pictures are of you."

Esme shook her head in amazement and kissed him again. There was nothing quite like traveling with Carlisle.


	123. Grudge

Hi everyone! This week's final chapter is a reader request—I don't know if she'd want me to use her name/screenname, but it's her birthday tomorrow, and she asked for a chapter about the following scene, so here it is, with many happy returns of the day! :) And as always, please let me know if you have a request for a chapter—next week, I plan to do another chapter based on a reader request. Thank you again for all your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday. Have a great week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't wait until April 12th! (When the "Official Illustrated Guide" comes out...yeah, you probably knew that already :)).

_2006_: Grudge

Carlisle's POV

Edward had taken Bella home for the day, Rosalie and Emmett were out in the garage, Alice and Jasper had decided to go hunting, and Carlisle could hear Esme humming as she sat down at her desk when he stepped into his office to try calling Irina again. Ever since his conversation with Tanya earlier that day, he'd been trying to reach Irina on her cell phone, but she was either away from home or else ignoring his frequent calls. Carlisle was fairly certain that nothing he could say now would change matters, but he'd heard the genuine regret in Tanya's voice when she'd said that the Denalis wouldn't help in the fight against the newborns. She'd also sounded slightly puzzled when he'd flatly he'd refused to give them permission to attack the wolves, and Carlisle didn't really blame Tanya. She'd spent centuries hunting humans before she and her sisters began to feed on animals—humans that could turn into animals might well seem like fair game to the Denalis, even if the wolves hadn't killed Laurent, who'd apparently grown close to Irina in the short time they'd spent together. Now Irina wanted vengeance, and though Carlisle knew that it was probably pointless to even try, he was determined to convince her to reconsider the matter.

Carlisle was trying very hard to be calm and patient, as he had ever since speaking with Tanya. But it was difficult, because Irina's grudge against the wolves was keeping the Denalis away from a fight in which their help was desperately needed. Carlisle hated to even consider it, but he knew that without their help, it was very likely that someone would be lost. Jasper could fight, and he would do his best to teach the others to defend themselves, but given the size of the army that Alice was predicting, the newborns would overwhelm them through sheer force of numbers. Carlisle tried to imagine losing all of them, but he couldn't imagine a life without his family—he would gladly be ripped apart by newborns before he faced such a thing—and losing even one of them…Edward, or Emmett, or Rosalie, or Alice, or Jasper…or Esme…no, he couldn't bear that. Even imagining it caused him the closest thing he'd felt to physical pain in centuries.

Carlisle took a deep breath and relaxed his grip on his cell phone before he inadvertently crushed the delicate silver thing. With a sigh, he decided to leave Irina a message—up until now, he'd been ending his calls every time they were sent to her voicemail, but now Carlisle decided that even though she was refusing to speak to him directly, wasn't there a chance that she might listen to a message? If he could only convince her to speak to him, and then if only he could impress upon her the dire circumstances they were facing…

"Irina, it's me," he said quietly. In the other room, he heard Esme stop humming. "I'd really like to speak with you. We've been friends for a long time, and I understand what you want, but I can't give it to you. Having said that, I still have to ask you for your help—we can't do this alone. Please, call me back."

Esme didn't come in, but as Carlisle sat down at his desk to stare at his phone, he heard her start to hum again. He smiled slightly at the sound—Carlisle knew her well enough to know that Esme hummed when she was happy, but she also hummed when she was nervous. When she was in a cheerful mood, the sound was pleasant and melodious, but now the tune she was humming was disjointed and uneven. The notes weren't off key, and the sound was beautiful, but it was like she was giving anxiety itself a voice. The very song seemed distracted, a clear sign that Esme wasn't really listening to herself as she hummed—it was simply an action that she could perform to keep her mind off more troubling things. Carlisle listened to her hum, trying not to think of his own nervous thoughts, or where the others were now—one way or another, tonight they were all going to try to distract themselves from thoughts of what might happen when the newborns arrived. Already there was so little time left to prepare…both for the battle, and for other things.

Carlisle quietly extracted a folder from the bottom drawer of his desk and opened it. The contents were, in their own way, reassuring: there were deeds to the various houses and properties he owned, notes on the progress of stocks and bonds, and a will, in which nearly everything would be left to Esme in the event of his death. Carlisle had had the will for a long time now, but he'd never shown it to Esme. If he did die, Alice would be sure to see it, though it was unlikely that its existence was really necessary. It was a human document, necessary in human families. He didn't like to imagine Esme ever having to read it someday, but then again...as selfish as it was, Carlisle found it easier to imagine her losing him than to imagine losing her.

Just then, Carlisle's cell phone rang. He snatched it up and answered before the first ring had finished.

"Hello?" he said, knowing who was calling without having to glance at the caller I.D. The caller was silent.

"Irina," he said, his voice a quiet plea more than a greeting. "Please, can we discuss—"

"There's nothing to discuss," Irina said, her voice flat and ice cold. "Either you let me kill them, or we're not coming."

"Irina, I can't let you do that," Carlisle said quietly, struggling to keep his voice calm. "I'm sorry about what happened—"

"Then let me kill the filthy mutts!" Irina hissed.

Carlisle repressed the urge to sigh. "No. I know Laurent was important to you, but he—"

"No!" Irina said sharply. "Carlisle, don't try to tell me who he was or what he did to make your precious little pets kill him! I've lost my mate, and right now I can't bring myself to care about anything else."

"Irina, I could lose my entire family because of this!" Carlisle said, his patience finally gone. "I am truly sorry for your loss, but please, we need your help."

Irina was silent for a moment, and then she whispered, "I'm sorry, Carlisle." Then she ended the call.

Carlisle sighed and put the phone down on his desk. Esme had slipped into the room at some point during the conversation, and now she sat down on the arm of his chair and embraced him as he dropped his head into his hands.

"They're not coming," he said quietly. "I didn't really think I could change Irina's mind, but…"

"But you tried," Esme said softly. "And it was good of you to apologize. When she's had some time to think about this, she's going to regret staying away when you asked for her help."

Carlisle sighed. "She's already sorry. She even apologized—I suppose I underestimated the depth of her feelings for Laurent, but now she's grieving for him and feeling guilty for abandoning us."

Esme was silent for a moment. "No matter what, we can't give up the wolves," she whispered. "Even if they hadn't saved Bella's life—"

"I know," Carlisle murmured bleakly. "But Esme, without the Denalis, we're badly outnumbered. Jasper can teach us the basics of fighting newborns, but he can't keep us from being overwhelmed if they really have twice our numbers. We have to fight, but when we do..."

Carlisle trailed off-it was too hard to think about what might happen-all of them had so much to lose, and it was even harder to bear when the person he was least able to live without was sitting next to him, her arms around him.

"I'm scared too," Esme whispered, kissing him on the cheek. Without another word, they both stood up and left the office to go into their bedroom. There would be plenty of time to worry tomorrow, but for tonight, Carlisle was grateful that they could distract each other from their fears, and Irina's grudge, and how soon their lives might be changed forever.


	124. Destination

Hi everyone! Today's first chapter is just a brief look at how I imagine Alice's life as a vampire might have begun, and how her visions might have given her an idea of what the Cullens were like—I'm guessing on the date here (again, I can't wait until "The Official Illustrated Guide" comes out so I can maybe find out for sure), but I love the idea of Alice seeing all the of the Cullens together before Carlisle and Esme were married and before Carlisle had even changed anyone but Edward. Thanks for your reviews, and stay tuned for another chapter after this one. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and since it's been so cloudy lately (though it's been snowy here instead of rainy), it's been the perfect time to re-read it. :)

_1920_: Destination

Alice's POV

It was impossible to describe how suddenly it happened: before, there had been nothing. And then she opened her eyes, and all at once, she knew her name, and that she was thirsty. Alice gazed around her curiously—she'd been lying under a tree, her body hidden by tall grass, but now that she sat up, she could see a forbidding stone building in the distance, and beyond that a forest, the limbs of the trees heavy with moss, obscuring animals with tantalizing heartbeats. Alice knew that she was thirsty, and if she went to the forest, she would find something to ease her thirst—she saw herself catching a panther and sinking her teeth into its neck.

Alice blinked—she'd seen herself and the panther, but the scene hadn't been before her eyes. She realized as she stood up and ran toward the trees that the image was in her mind—she watched it again the second before she sprang upon the animal, and then she began to think about what the vision might mean.

_I'm not human_, Alice thought, scanning other pictures that appeared in her mind once she had finished the panther and could focus on something other than thirst. _But I used to be. Why can't I remember that? _Alice focused on the visions in her head, and found that they became a little clearer the more she thought about them. As she concentrated, she noticed more details—she saw herself running to a nearby farm and stealing some clothing that had been hung on a line to dry. Alice frowned—she didn't like the idea of stealing anything, but then she had a vision of herself trying to mingle with humans dressed as she was. People would stare at the shapeless grey smock she wore, and they would wonder why she had no shoes. People noticing her was bad, because...

_I'm a vampire now_, Alice thought, unsurprised by the idea—she'd known ever since she'd opened her eyes on this new life what she'd become, because even in those first, bewildering moments, she'd seen the faces of people—men and women who were dazzlingly beautiful—and she'd known what they were, and that she was the same. As she scanned her visions of the immediate future more carefully, Alice decided to steal some clothes after all. After that, she could decide what to do next.

Once she was dressed in her new clothing, Alice hunted again, and then she sat under a tree for a while, trying to focus on the people she'd seen in her first vision. The man was most important—he was Jasper, and she was going to find him first. Alice smiled at the thought—she already loved Jasper, without ever having spoken to him and without knowing when she would meet him, or how long she would have to wait. All she could see of her own life in her visions now were scenes of lurking in forests, staying out of the sunlight by day and hunting by night, and hunting, always hunting.

_So, I'm not going to find Jasper right away,_ she thought to herself, frowning a little when she thought of how impossible it would be for her to search for him as she was now. When she considered trying to find a city and looking for him there, her visions changed to scenes of her killing people, breaking them and drinking their blood just as she did with animals, and Alice shuddered. She found a stream and examined her reflection—when she saw her red eyes, her brutally short hair, and her luminous white skin, she realized that she'd misinterpreted the earlier vision she'd had of humans staring at her. They wouldn't have stared at her if she'd come to a city wearing her old clothing because of the clothing—they would have stared at her because she was beautiful, and terrifying, and Alice wondered how much time would have to pass before she stopped wanting to kill them. Even in her visions, the humans she saw were unbearably tempting. They made her throat burn so badly that Alice tried to focus on other visions—whose faces had she seen aside from Jasper's in the first moment of her life?

One was very clear—his hair was blond, and his eyes were golden. Alice wondered if that was because of his age. Jasper's eyes were red like hers, but this man, Carlisle, was older than her and older than Jasper. She knew that he hunted animals, just as she'd done so far, and that Jasper hunted people-Alice saw that she would have to explain to Jasper about hunting animals, because he didn't know that it was possible to live on their blood alone, like Carlisle did. Alice wondered how old Carlisle was, and how she even knew his name. She didn't know the names of the humans she'd seen in her visions, but she knew Jasper's and Carlisle's names. _Maybe it's because they're so important_, Alice thought, because she knew that finding these people-these vampires-mattered more than anything else. First she would look for Jasper, and then they would find Carlisle Cullen, with his strange eyes, and his family.

_Find Jasper, find the Cullens,_ Alice told herself, glad to have an idea of what she was going to do, even if she didn't know how far away these future meetings might be. Her visions seemed to get clearer as soon as she decided on a definite course of action, and now Alice saw herself moving deeper into the trees as the sun emerged from behind a cloud. She got up and moved, and as she did so, she thought about another face she'd seen—this one wasn't as clear as Jasper's or Carlisle's, but Alice could see it was a woman, and she was with Carlisle…no, that wasn't it. She would be with Carlisle soon, but she wasn't yet.

_Esme_, Alice thought, smiling. She could see Carlisle and Esme married, and their children, Edward and Rosalie and Emmett, though the latter two were even harder to see than Esme. _They must all still be human,_ Alice decided—she'd noticed that her visions of vampires were much clearer than those of humans. Alice wondered what they would do, what the lives of these humans she could barely see would be like before they became vampires. She wondered what her own life had been like—she had no memory of that time. For all Alice knew, she might have had no life at all before she'd opened her eyes a few hours ago. All she knew about herself was that her name was Alice…and someday, she would find Jasper, and together, they would find the Cullens. She would have a family…and so would Jasper, and Carlisle, though the futures she'd seen for them were something that they couldn't even begin to imagine yet. It was a bit daunting when she considered how far away they might be now, but Alice was confident that she would find Jasper and the Cullens eventually; they were her future, and all she had to do now was start moving forward to reach her destination.


	125. Impression

Hi again! This week's second chapter is set near the beginning of "Twilight." In "Midnight Sun," we get to see the Cullens' various reactions to the way Edward saved Bella's life in chapter 3—for this chapter, I thought about how Carlisle might feel once Alice announced that Edward was going to fall in love with Bella, especially how it might remind him of the way he had met Esme when she was human, and how disastrous a future relationship between Edward and Bella might appear. Thanks again for all your reviews—they really and truly make my day whenever I read them—and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and please, _please_ Stephenie Meyer, finish "Midnight Sun" someday!

_2005_: Impression

Carlisle's POV

As soon as Edward left the house, every couple retreated to a different part of the house to discuss what Alice had just told them: either Edward was going to kill Bella Swan…or he was going to fall in love with her. Carlisle could sense the disbelief and disapproval that Rosalie and Jasper felt to varying degrees, as well as Emmett's amusement with the situation and Alice's anticipation of Bella's friendship, but the things that dominated his attention at the moment were Esme's elation and curiosity. Following Edward's departure, she took his hand and pulled him upstairs to their room, then shut the door behind them and pushed him backward until he was sitting on their bed.

"All right," she said, grinning at his expression—Carlisle was worried and amused in equal measure at her excitement, and he was sure it showed on his face. "I think I've been quite patient up until now. Everyone else has gotten to meet or at least see Bella Swan, and I've resisted the urge to grill you about her all afternoon. But since—hopefully—we're going to be getting to know this girl very well in the near future, now I want you to tell me everything about her."

Carlisle chuckled and pulled her down to sit in his lap, trying to let Esme's good mood assuage his fears about Alice's impossible prediction. "Everything?" he repeated. "Well, since I've only met her once, and then only for a few minutes, that shouldn't take long."

Esme ran her fingers through his hair, more out of affection than impatience. "You know what I mean! Tell me what you thought about her, what Edward's like around her, and what she's like around him."

"Well," Carlisle said thoughtfully, recalling his brief meeting with Bella at the hospital earlier that day. "My first impression of Bella Swan came from her x-rays. She has a lot of healed contusions on her head, which worried me a bit, though I made a joke to Edward about it. His opinion was that Bella is a bit…ungainly at times."

"Ungainly?" Esme repeated, her expression skeptical.

"I was trying to think of a kinder way to say clumsy," Carlisle explained sheepishly. "That was basically Edward's assessment, though the implication of what he said about her was that he thought she was unlucky."

"Hmm," Esme murmured thoughtfully. "Unlucky to have met him?"

"Exactly," Carlisle said, frowning. He wanted Esme to feel the danger of the situation, but at the same time, he was happy that she could be so happy for Edward when all Edward himself could feel at the moment was dread. And Carlisle didn't want Esme to make the same connection he had: that he'd fallen in love with a human girl once too, and that Esme's human life had almost been changed irrevocably as a result of their meeting. But then he'd left her.

"Go on," Esme prompted gently. "What did you think of Bella when you first met her face to face?"

"Well, her expression told me that the resemblance between Edward and I is obvious," Carlisle said, troubled. "She was quiet and polite, and more stoic about what had almost happened to her than most humans her age would have been. It was clear that she was embarrassed when I told her that most of her classmates had followed her to the hospital—she actually asked me if she could go back to school. I suppose she didn't want people to think that she'd been injured. I told her she should go home though, so now she's going to have to wait until tomorrow to be surrounded by overbearingly sympathetic teenagers."

Esme chuckled. "This _is _a small town. The near death experience of Forks' newest resident will certainly dominate conversation for a while, at least among those who've met Bella. Did you see her father today?"

Carlisle nodded. "I assured him that Bella was fine and that it was safe for her to go home. You know, at first I thought that she and her father must not be close, given how long they lived apart, but having met both of them now, I think they simply have very similar personalities. They're both…reserved about showing their emotions, for the most part. Now that I've met Bella, I can understand why Edward is so frustrated at not being able to hear her thoughts—it was clear that she was thinking about us, and that she had her suspicions, but it was impossible to guess what specifically she might suspect about us. I suppose I've just grown so used to relying on Edward's gift that any knack I once had for reading human faces has atrophied."

Esme shrugged. "Possibly, but you just said yourself that she's very reserved. Alice tells me that she's been attracting a lot of attention at school—aside from simply being the new girl, maybe other humans find her mysterious too. What does she look like?"

"She's shorter than you, but taller than Alice," Carlisle said. "Not quite Rose's height, but close. She has brown hair, about as long as yours or maybe a bit longer, and brown eyes. She's very pale, almost as pale as we are."

"That's unusual for a girl who's from Phoenix," Esme said, clearly trying to picture Bella Swan as pale. "I've been imagining she was tan, since that seems to be the norm with teenagers who live anywhere sunny. But a girl as pale as we are…"

Carlisle nodded. "And she blushes easily. I really pitied Edward when I saw just how easily—as she was getting off the exam table, she stumbled, and I caught her. As soon as I did, blood rushed to her cheeks."

Esme sighed. "Poor Edward. Seeing that must have been difficult, given the way her scent affects him."

"You're right," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "But at the same time, I got the feeling that every time I touched Bella when I examined her, Edward was somewhat…jealous of me."

"Jealous?" Esme repeated incredulously.

"Mostly because I could touch her safely, I think," Carlisle explained, "but at the time, it struck me as odd that he should want to touch her at all, given how risky that would be. Suffice to say Alice's vision explains Edward's reaction in the hospital today, and the way I saw him hurry into the emergency room when the boy in the van, Tyler Crowley, wouldn't stop talking to Bella."

Esme grinned. "Edward really does like her! He may not love her yet, but I'm happy that he's already fond of her enough to be jealous."

"Well, Edward didn't say so, but that was what I guessed. After all, it would bother me if anyone pestered you like that," Carlisle said, smiling at her, but starting to feel uneasy. He'd just brought them dangerously close to the very subject he was trying to avoid.

Esme gave him a shrewd look, but Carlisle guessed that she wasn't really revealing what was on her mind when she said, "so, how do you think Bella feels about Edward?"

"I have no idea, and I doubt she knows herself," Carlisle said, smiling again. "Edward wouldn't know either if Alice hadn't told him. For now, I think she's simply frustrated by what little she knows about him and how much she doesn't know. Edward is a mystery to her."

They were both quiet for a moment, and Carlisle thought of how he'd met Esme in a hospital, all those years ago. He'd doubtless seemed mysterious to her then, but she'd been a mystery to him too.

"They remind you of us, don't they?" Esme said quietly.

Carlisle sighed and embraced her. "They make me think of what we could have been. If I hadn't left you."

Esme pulled away from him far enough to stare into his eyes. "No matter what I say, you're never going to completely stop blaming yourself for that, are you?"

"Probably not," Carlisle said ruefully. "I know it's irrational, and that I couldn't have known what your human life would be like, but I still wish…"

"And knowing Edward, he's going to hate himself for staying with Bella, if he stays, just as much as you hate yourself for leaving me," Esme murmured, shaking her head in exasperation.

"That's because there is no right answer here, no solution that doesn't hurt both parties when one of us falls in love with a human. If he leaves, he'll regret it, but he'll regret staying too—Edward will imagine the life he might be depriving her of, and yes, he'll hate himself for that."

"You're forgetting what Bella wants in this situation though," Esme said gently. "Whether he stays or goes, she's going to make her own choices, just like I did, and she'll have her own life, with or without Edward. Of course I'm biased—I think her life will be better with him in it, and if she starts to love him too, she's never going to want to be away from him. I was lucky that way, with you. I got to know you well enough to be infatuated with you while I was human, and later I fell in love with my idea with you, but it wasn't until my human life was over that I realized how impossible it is for me to live without you. For Bella's sake…well, I hope that if she realizes that about Edward while she's still human, they both have the strength to stay together. Then again, if Alice is right, soon enough it might be even harder for them to be apart. I hope she's right…"

"Do you think Bella's unlucky?" Carlisle wondered. "I mean…"

"I was lucky to meet you," Esme said firmly, kissing him on the temple. "That's what you're really asking, isn't it? And I think Bella's lucky to have met Edward. Edward himself might not think so now, and I know you're worried about how they can possibly be together…but for now, I'm just happy for both of them. Humans and immortals alike suffer so much for no reason at all—I think we're all willing to go through some hardships for someone we really love."

Carlisle smiled, feeling somewhat reassured. "After all these years, Edward's found someone when he least expected to."

"You always said he would, and I agreed, so we were both right," Esme said smugly, kissing him again, this time all over his face, gentle pecks that made him laugh. Finally, Carlisle pulled her mouth to his and they both lay down on the bed together, their limbs curled together tightly.

"Don't worry," Esme murmured, her confidence apparently undamaged by their conversation—it was possible that what they'd said had even reinforced her belief in the good fortune of Edward's future love for Bella Swan. "She'll be okay, and so will Edward. He deserves to be happy, and he will be. She will be too. Trust me."

"You're really sure about this, aren't you?" Carlisle said, impressed by her faith in Edward, or the wisdom of fate, or whatever was responsible for what was going to happen next—even if it was Bella Swan who was going to determine the future, it seemed that Esme felt certain that that future would be a good one.

"Call it a mother's intuition," Esme said with a grin.

Carlisle smiled down at Esme and tried not to think about his first impression of Bella Swan: that though she might be stronger and more resilient than she looked, she was terribly breakable, so devastatingly human that it was far easier to imagine Edward killing her than loving her. Carlisle tried to imagine kissing Esme like this when she'd been human and he simply couldn't—it had taken the Denali sisters hundreds of years to learn how to keep from killing their lovers, and Edward was so much younger, in love (or about to be) for the first time with a human he could so effortlessly destroy.

Esme pulled him closer then and Carlisle sighed, deciding that first impressions were often, mercifully, mistaken. After all, when he'd met Esme as a human, he'd been certain that there was no way that they could ever be together—he'd been wrong then, fortunately for him—and as they lay in bed together as early evening gradually turned to night, Carlisle hoped that his impression of what Edward and Bella's future would be was mistaken too. Esme was right: Edward was so good, and he'd been alone for so long, and poor Bella Swan was so young, with her whole life ahead of her…they both deserved a love story, not a tragedy.


	126. Progress

Hi everyone! Today's first chapter is rather long: it's a look at Edward's life after Carlisle and Esme were married but before he left to live as a nomad for a few years—I like to think that at least some of that time would have been relatively peaceful. Please note that all the horrifying Tudor era remedies and other historical events/people I mention below are true: all that information came from the book "5 People Who Died During Sex, and 100 Other Terribly Tasteless Lists" by Karl Shaw. (It's a hilarious book that contains all the sorts of gross and shocking historical facts that aren't usually mentioned in history classes :)). Thanks so much as always for your reviews, and stay tuned for one more chapter after this one. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I CAN'T WAIT UNTIL THE OFFICIAL ILLUSTRATED GUIDE COMES OUT! (Seriously, I might take off work that day to read it, if at all possible :)).

_1923_: Progress

Edward's POV

Esme and I were sitting in the living room together, each of us reading, when we heard Carlisle's car pull up the drive. Esme grinned and put down her book to go and greet him, and I tried not to sigh audibly as I marked my place in my own book and set it on the table beside me. In a moment, they would kiss, just as they did every night, and they would, for my sake, stay in the hallway while they did, and they would try not to think specifically about why they were so happy to see each other, and what they would do when they were alone later in the evening. I in turn would try very hard to drown out their thoughts by recalling the diagrams in the biology book I'd set aside.

I was enjoying my latest correspondence school courses; Carlisle and Esme and I were talking about moving in a year or so, and I was trying to prepare myself for the idea of attending a real university somewhere out east. Staying home with Esme during the day and studying while Carlisle was at work was good preparation, academically speaking, for entering college, but I worried about my ability to spend much time in close proximity to humans. I had finished high school, yes, but that had been a struggle, and it had taken me three years of grappling with my thirst and resisting the pull of my classmates' blood every minute of every day to do it. The prospect of college as a place where I would learn far more than I could on my own was appealing, but as a place where I would again have to resist the temptation of human blood, college began to seem like it would be a trial by fire that I might be ill prepared for. How long would it take me to complete a four year degree when I had finished my senior year of high school over the course of three years? And would I be able to finish my studies without killing someone? Mistakes, as I'd been reminded fairly recently, were always a possibility.

Esme had slipped a few months ago, and though the experience had been a trial for all of us, in the past few weeks, life had begun to return to the easy routine we'd grown used to. It was the first time Esme had killed anyone, and she'd been inconsolable at first; in the end, Carlisle had finally manage to coax her out of their room, where she'd shut herself up for days, crying and dwelling miserably on what she'd seen as an irredeemable sin. The human she'd killed had been an old woman who'd been taking a walk in the woods one evening when Esme, out picking flowers, had caught the scent of the woman's blood and attacked without thinking. I'd been in town at the library, and Carlisle had been at work, and by the time we both came home, Esme had been sitting mute and grief stricken by the woman's body for hours.

Carlisle and I had taken Esme home before returning to take care of the corpse; we moved it a few hundred yards so it rested close to the main road, and a passing driver had discovered it. The police were called, and they determined that, given the woman's injuries, a wolf or coyote must have killed her. Somehow, during the brief intervals when he paused from trying to comfort Esme, Carlisle found out who the woman's family was and anonymously paid for the funeral; he gave them a large sum of money on top of that too, knowing that while it couldn't bring back the wife, mother, and grandmother that the family had lost, their lives during and after the grieving process might be easier if they were a little wealthier. Somehow, Carlisle arranged things so it seemed that the money was actually a bequest from an eccentric and distant relative from California who had also died recently, so few questions were asked. Soon, the death was forgotten, and life in Ashland returned to normal for the human population, but not for us.

Esme had taken a long time to forgive herself, in part because she was convinced that Carlisle and I must be disgusted by what she'd done. The fact that we'd almost immediately forgiven her (it was impossible not to when she was so miserable and obviously repentant), and our efforts to reassure her that hers was a mistake that often happened to young vampires only made things worse in a way, since neither Carlisle nor I had ever slipped, and Esme's guilt was compounded by what she saw as our generosity, and her certainty that she didn't deserve it. But in the past few weeks, she'd begun to seem like herself again; she hunted more often, and was careful to stick close to either me or Carlisle at all times when we went into town, but aside from these understandable precautions, she was once again her usual cheerful self. While I studied chemistry and biology and began to consider what I wanted to major in (medicine being most likely, though I'd been too shy to admit my plans to Carlisle yet), Esme read widely about art history and architecture. We encouraged each other, and though I often worried about how dangerous we both could be, because of our youth and thirst, I was secretly hoping that Esme would decide to join me in college next year.

"How was your day?" I said easily when Carlisle and Esme came into the living room, hand and hand.

"Very good, thank you," Carlisle said, smiling as he and Esme sat across from me on the sofa. "It's always a good day when I get to deliver a baby."

"Boy or girl?" Esme said eagerly—descriptions of babies and of people who recovered unexpectedly from dire illnesses or injuries were the only stories of Carlisle's work at the hospital that Esme liked to hear; if I wanted to hear a description of some difficult surgery, it would have to wait until Esme was outside sketching or working in the garden.

"It was a girl," Carlisle said, smiling. "She and her mother were both fine when I left. We had three births today, all of them without complications, so that was a nice way to end the week."

I smiled when I realized that I hadn't even noticed it was Friday—Carlisle often worked on Saturdays or Sundays or both, but this was apparently one of his rare weekends off. Esme was already grinning with excitement at the thought of having Carlisle with us until Monday.

"You're really staying home this weekend?" she asked.

"It's been too long since I have," he said apologetically. "Dr. Hanford practically ordered me to take a couple of days off before, in his words, 'your family forgets what you look like.'"

"You didn't miss much at home today," I said, nodding at the history book I'd finished before moving on to the biology text. "Esme's been reading and sketching and using her time usefully today, while I spent most of the afternoon amusing myself with descriptions of the medical follies of the past."

"I still can't believe some of the things you read to me," Esme said, shaking her head before she turned to look at Carlisle. "I know it was before your time, but in the Tudor period, did people really believe that swallowing frogs or spiders, covered in butter and still alive, would cure asthma?"

"From what I've heard, that's true," Carlisle said, examining the book in question. He looked amused as he flipped through it to the page I'd marked, which described some cures that were popular during the Tudor dynasty. "To cure headaches, take a rope that was used to hang a man and rub it on your forehead…to cure jaundice, every morning for one week, consume one pint of ale that contains nine drowned head lice…yes, these sound like the kinds of cures people would try back then."

"It made me wonder how things like that began," I said, trying to imagine the first human who'd decided that wearing the skin of a donkey would cure their rheumatism.

"Before the concept of germs was widely accepted or understood, and before medicine as a whole became something scientific, there were a great many supposed cures like these. Most had their origin in stories people told each other—everyone knew a friend of a friend whose life had been saved by a given cure—and the original cure may have worked for the original person in question, but as stories of cures traveled, they inevitably became distorted. A lot of them were complete fictions too—people made a lot of money then, and they still do unfortunately, by selling people colored water or alcohol mixed with other ingredients. Usually they were harmless, but not always."

"I had an uncle who used to swear by one of those old miracle cures from the turn of the century," Esme said, shaking her head at the memory. "In the end, it turned out to be ninety percent gin and ten percent cod liver oil."

"Unfortunately, medicines like that have been far more common throughout history than treatments which actually help people," Carlisle said, handing the book back to me. "In the last century especially, placebos were prescribed by doctors and sold in pharmacies because they often worked—not because they had any actual curative powers, but because people believed that they worked. Such compounds, though there was nothing scientific about them, often ended up having some beneficial effects."

"Did you ever give people sugar pills?" I asked, surprised, already hearing the answer in Carlisle's head.

He nodded, looking a bit sheepish. "If a patient came to me insisting that they needed some kind of medicine to take, I always preferred to prescribe a placebo rather than give someone something with proven but potentially dangerous effects, like opium—I hated the smell of the stuff, and personally, I didn't need to see too many opium addicts before I decided that it was often more harmful than the illnesses it was supposed to be curing. And of course it's only been in the past few decades that I've had many useful medicines to choose from when treating patients. Remember that when I first started out as a doctor, the careful application of leeches was considered the height of medical science."

I laughed. "Okay, point taken. I suppose medicine really has come a long way just in this decade."

Carlisle nodded, his smile wry now. "The only problem is that as quickly as things are improving these days, I know that a hundred years from now, I'm going to look back on the kinds of things I prescribe now and be horrified."

Esme, who had made a face at Carlisle's mention of leeches—I always assumed that because she was so young, she still had some lingering distaste toward creatures she'd found disgusting as a human—stood up and moved toward the back door. "I'll be right back—now that it's dark, I can finally water the plants on the back porch."

I smiled—Esme had already watered the plants that morning, after Carlisle left for work—I could clearly hear that she was giving me a few minutes to talk to him alone, if I wanted to. I tried not to sigh—I still didn't feel quite ready to discuss medical school with my father, close as our conversation had brought us to the topic. Luckily, Carlisle took advantage of our moment alone to bring up something I'd heard was on his mind recently.

"Here," he said, stepping into the front hallway and returning with a book he'd apparently had hidden in his coat pocket. "The bookseller in town had to order a copy from Chicago. I thought it might interest you, given your current studies."

It was a copy of Samuel Pepys' diary. "Thank you," I said, genuinely pleased, though not surprised—Carlisle often thought about this book, since it described in detail the world he'd grown up in. "I've been meaning to read this for a long time now."

Carlisle nodded. "I used to have one in my library, but I gave my old copy away years ago to a friend of mine, Garrett. He was interested in reading about England during the 17th century, but I thought you might like this because there's a description of an early attempt at a blood transfusion that Pepys witnessed."

I raised my eyebrows. "I didn't know that blood transfusions were first tried so long ago. In my biology book, it only mentions the 19th century attempts."

"Early experiments in transfusions weren't very successful, probably because the pioneering doctor actually used animal blood," Carlisle explained. "I read once that at least two people actually survived, but it seems they were only given very small amounts of blood. In his diary, Pepys describes a man receiving a large transfusion of animal blood, and apparently recovering, temporarily. The man later died however, and eventually, blood transfusions were banned in England-they were considered dangerous and immoral, given the fact that so few people survived them, even when human blood was used."

I looked at Carlisle thoughtfully. "Are you only giving me this now because Esme's outside? Do you really think she'd get upset just because we're talking about human blood, and death?"

"No," Carlisle said quietly. "I don't think she's that sensitive. I'm the oversensitive one in this case—she's been so much better lately, and I…"

_I was really afraid, when we first found her after it happened_, Carlisle explained. It was easier for him to think it than to say it aloud. When I heard what he was thinking, I could only shake my head—Carlisle was thinking that Esme was, in many ways, stronger than he was. Carlisle trusted his self control, and in nearly three hundred years, he'd never killed a human…but Esme's slip had made him wonder how he would react if he ever did.

Carlisle smiled sadly._ I don't want to remind her, because…I didn't know how to talk about it then, and I still don't. I'm still in awe of her, that she's been able to grieve and go on. I'm not sure what I'd do if I were her—I'd be tempted in wallow in guilt, I think, but Esme…she's trying so hard to be cheerful, for our sakes. So yes, I suppose I waited to give you that book because I didn't want to bring up anything that might make her unhappy, but only because I'm so happy to see her finally forgiving herself. It's selfish really—I honestly think I'm protecting myself more than her._

I shook my head—despite what he'd said, or rather _thought_, I could see that Esme's happiness was foremost in his mind, as it always was. No, talking about blood wouldn't have upset Esme, but I realized that if Esme could see how worried Carlisle had been about her, how worried he still was that she was blaming herself needlessly for an accident none of us could have prevented, she would be unhappy.

"You can't hear her thoughts, but you still understand her mind better than I do," I said, smiling as I set my new book on the table beside me.

Carlisle shrugged, smiling too. "I think that I could know her for a hundred years and still not understand how strong she is," he said quietly.

We talked for a few more minutes after that, and then Esme came back inside, giving no indication that she'd heard our conversation. Soon after, she and Carlisle went upstairs after wishing me goodnight, and I sat down in front of the piano. I was looking forward to spending the weekend with my parents—we were thinking of attending a concert the following night—but I was also eager to study more—I planned to borrow some old medical journals from Carlisle before he left for work on Monday. It was interesting, studying modern medicine's progress over the past decade, but tonight, I was more impressed by how much my family had grown in just a few years time. We were all far different and far happier people than we'd been when we'd first met, and though I'd heard Carlisle's and Esme's thoughts all along, I was still impressed by how much they trusted each other, and me—Carlisle, rather than worrying about our respective abilities to control our thirst, was excited to think of Esme and I in college someday soon. He was even thinking of earning a new medical degree—maybe he and I could study together…

Just then, I heard a muffled noise from upstairs and rolled my eyes. Carlisle and Esme were trying, but they were still learning how to be _quietly_ amorous. With a smile, I slipped outside to hunt, happy to imagine where we might be in a few years time; would we all be in college together? Someday, would I be able to help Carlisle in his work? The future seemed especially bright when I considered that given the time Carlisle and Esme spent trying to practice some self control when they were alone together, they could only get quieter, rather than louder, as time went on. That, from my point of view at least, would certainly be progress.


	127. Frail

Hi again! Today's second chapter takes place between "Eclipse" and "Breaking Dawn"—I get the feeling that Edward would worry excessively if Bella so much as caught a cold, so here's a chapter about Bella getting sick and Carlisle and Esme stopping by to take care of her. Thank you again for all your wonderful reviews, and I hope you have a great week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 58 days until "The Official Illustrated Guide" comes out! Hooray! :)

_2006_: Frail

Bella's POV

Six weeks before the wedding, I got the flu. It was going around in Forks—Charlie was actually sick with it for a few days, and since I'd been bringing him water and pills for most of that time, I wasn't surprised when I started feeling achy and nauseous too. Edward was, of course, more concerned than he needed to be, though I couldn't really blame him; the flu had been a much more serious illness when he'd been human, and his parents had actually died from it. He would have too, if not for Carlisle, so I let Edward hover over me and bring me fluids and check my temperature every hour or so without complaint, never mind that I felt too awful to do anything, let alone summon the energy to complain that he was worrying too much.

Charlie actually accepted Edward's presence in the house during the day, if only because he was still feeling too sick himself to take care of me. Somewhere in my fever-wearied brain, I also got the impression that Charlie was hoping Edward would get sick too, but of course that wasn't going to happen. Every night, Edward pretended to leave before Charlie went to bed, and a few minutes after I heard his car pull away, he would reenter my room through the window and spend the night watching my fitful attempts to sleep. Rather than making me shiver with cold, the closeness of his cool body actually helped me when my fever was at its worst, though when the sweating stopped and I started to get chills, Edward would silently wrap me in a quilt and ease away, careful not to touch me anymore than he had too, which of course made me even more unhappy about being sick.

After five days of laying in bed, sweating and shivering and feeling horrible, I'd never felt so ready to be a vampire, though Edward's dark eyes reminded me of the new worries I would soon have to cope with.

"Go and hunt," I croaked, trying and failing to sound authoritative—a dying frog would have sounded tougher. "You're thirsty, you should go."

Edward didn't answer me, and a little while later, probably seconds after my misguided attempt to do something as strenuous as talking, I fell asleep. The next time I woke up, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I no longer felt like I was about to throw up. I felt less achy too, though I was still uncomfortably warm, so it was a relief when I felt a cool hand on my forehead. I opened my eyes, about to thank Edward and tell him I was feeling a bit better, and then I started a little when I found Esme perched on the edge of my bed.

"Hi, honey," Esme said, smiling sympathetically at me. "I take it you were sound asleep when Edward told you he was going hunting?"

"Um…yeah, I guess I was," I said, trying to get my still sluggish brain to work properly. "Did you sneak in?"

"Yes, we came in through the window. Edward raced off as soon as we got here, so he should be back soon."

"We?" I repeated, then glanced past her and saw Carlisle sitting in the chair beside the bed. He smiled at me and waved.

"Oh," I said, realizing for the first time how awful my voice still sounded and how much my throat still hurt-talking very much wasn't an option at the moment. "Hi."

"Hi," Carlisle said, offering me a glass of water. "Here, drink this."

"Thanks," I managed. The water did help a little, but my throat still felt raw, and I decided that talking still wasn't a very good idea, though at least this time, I didn't pass out immediately after making the effort to speak.

"Do you think your stomach could handle anything right now? I brought some soup." Esme offered.

Surprisingly, that sounded good. "Sure, thanks." I tried to sit up, but of course before I could blink, Esme had shifted my pillow and helped me into a sitting position, so I was still mostly laying down, but at least my head was at such an angle that I'd be able to eat without choking.

"Be right back," Esme said, slipping out of my room and closing the door, a plastic container in her hand.

"Charlie…" I said faintly, though it wasn't like Esme really needed the warning—she could be as preternaturally quiet as any vampire, and Charlie usually slept like the dead, even when he wasn't recovering from the flu.

"I think Charlie's almost as sick as you are, though I saw him in the cruiser downtown today," Carlisle said, glancing in the direction of my father's room. "Even if he weren't exhausted after forcing himself to go to work, I doubt he could hear Esme downstairs."

"Charlie never hears Edward," I agreed. "So, Edward asked you guys to come watch me while he hunted?" I immediately took a big drink of water after what seemed like a long sentence to my aching throat.

Carlisle nodded. "Aside from wanting someone to look after you in his absence, though Edward's studied medicine before, he wanted a second opinion, just in case what he thought was the flu was really something more serious."

"I really am feeling a little better," I said, though I wondered if I was too sick to tell how sick I was. "Do you think I'm okay?"

Carlisle nodded. "You have the flu, just as you thought, and just as Edward thought. I took your temperature a few minutes ago, and it's still a bit high, but it's nothing dangerous. Another day or two of rest and you should be fine."

"No offense, but I'm kind of surprised he didn't just send Alice," I said, glancing at the window. "I mean, if the neighbors saw you guys…" I tried to imagine what people would think if someone saw the mysterious Dr. Cullen and his wife slipping through my bedroom window in the middle of the night.

Carlisle chuckled, probably imagining the same thing. "They didn't. And I was going to come alone, but Esme asked to come along in case you wanted something to eat. Actually though, Alice is forbidden to see you at the moment."

I stared at Carlisle, confused. "Forbidden?"

"Edward is afraid that the stress of the wedding preparations contributed to your becoming ill."

I rolled my eyes—of course it had to be the wedding stressing me out that had made me sick, rather than the simple fact that I'd caught the virus from Charlie. "Well, thank you for coming to see me, and thank you in advance for reassuring Edward that I'm okay, other than having the flu."

"You're welcome," Carlisle said, smiling. He stood up then and opened the door for Esme, who came in holding a bowl of chicken noodle soup, which smelled delicious after days of living on water, saltines, and ibuprofen.

"Thanks," I said, taking the bowl and beginning to eat. The soup tasted amazing, and it seemed to soothe my throat a lot. Just as I was finishing, Carlisle stood up again.

"Edward's back," he said, smiling at me. "I'll go give him my reassuring diagnosis."

"Thanks," I said. "See you later." Then Carlisle disappeared out the window.

"I'll take care of the dishes downstairs," Esme said, taking back my now empty bowl. "Would you like me to start some laundry before we leave?"

"That's okay," I said. "I've basically been wearing the same clothes for days now, which is kind of gross, but it means that I'm still all caught up on laundry. I did a load just before Charlie infected me."

"Anything else you'd like before I go?"

"Please tell Edward not to worry," I said. I was starting to feel sleepy again, after the soup I'd eaten and the energy I'd expended having an actual conversation for the first time in days.

"I will, but you know we can't help fussing over you a bit, sweetheart," Esme said, smoothing a lock of my hair away from my still slightly clammy forehead. I was too tired to be embarrassed, but I was grateful to Esme for not mentioning what must have been obvious to her superior sense of smell: I really needed a shower.

"I know," I muttered. "For a few more weeks, I'm still going to be the frail human."

Esme smiled. "I know you're joking, but I suppose we can't help thinking of you that way sometimes—you are so frail, compared to us. Edward's not the only one who worries when you're under the weather, you know. So get well soon, and we'll all stop fussing over you, all right?"

I smiled—Esme's voice was light, but it was clear that, like the mother she was, she hadn't been able to stop herself from worrying about me the past few days. "Thanks, Esme. And don't you worry either—I'll rest, I'll let Edward take care of me, and soon, I'll be healthy enough for Alice to torture me with wedding plans again."

Esme laughed. "Good girl. See you soon." Then she kissed me on the forehead and went downstairs with the soup bowl and spoon. I didn't hear her leave, but since she didn't come back upstairs, I assumed that she did what was novel for the vampires I knew and actually left the house via the front door. By the time Edward came through my window and lay down on the bed next to me, I was already half asleep, thinking, _I'm going to have the weirdest, nicest in-laws in the world._


	128. Absence

Hi again! Sorry, but there's only going to be one chapter today (though at least it's a long one), and sorry I'm a bit late on updating—I've had a lot of stuff due in the past week. However, I'm hoping to have time for three chapters per week for the next couple of weeks (midterms are going to be over, and then I'll have spring break, so we'll see…:)). Today's chapter was inspired by a reader request for a chapter dealing with the Cullens' various reactions to Rosalie and Emmett living on their own. Thanks as always for your wonderful reviews, and I'll be back again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 51 days until "The Official Illustrated Guide" comes out! :)

_1948_: Absence

Esme's POV

It was early evening, and Esme was standing in the sunroom, working on a painting of Emmett and Rosalie that she was going to give them for their anniversary. She was using a photograph that she'd taken of them on their first wedding day as the model for the painting—Emmett had his arms wrapped around Rosalie from behind, and she was turning her head back to look at him, smiling. Esme knew that it was one of Rosalie's favorite pictures, so before they'd moved into their new house, Esme had quietly borrowed the negative of the photo and had it copied. Now she had the picture clipped to her easel next to the canvas where she was slowly creating an oil painting that, when finished, would show Emmett and Rosalie almost life-sized.

Since the canvas was taller than she was, Esme was using her easel to hold the photograph and some rags and extra brushes—she'd leaned the canvas against the wall, and now she was using a step stool to begin painting Emmett's hair near the top of the canvas. It was going to be a huge painting, and for anyone but Rosalie, it would have seemed more than a bit ostentatious. But Esme knew that for Rose, it would be just right, and Emmett would like it for the simple fact that Rosalie did—that, Esme thought with a smile, basically summed up Emmett's taste in art.

Emmett and Rosalie had moved out six months ago, and though Esme missed them, she had to admit that the house was certainly a quieter, calmer place without the newlyweds. She knew it wasn't technically accurate to still think of them as newlyweds, since they'd been married for over ten years now, but given their overwhelming passion for each other, it was hard not to think of the happy couple as still being in the honeymoon phase of their relationship. Esme was happy for them, as were Carlisle and Edward, but everyone agreed that it was easier to be happy for Emmett and Rosalie when they were living somewhere else. And though Esme felt a bit selfish when she thought about it, the current house that she and Carlisle were living in, a beautiful old Victorian, was far too beautiful to be damaged or destroyed, as it doubtless would be if Emmett and Rosalie, with their unrestrained fits of lust, were to reside there. So Carlisle had generously bought them a house of their own…again.

Their current new home was actually their sixth new house. After their first wedding, it had taken just three months for Emmett and Rosalie to level the cape cod they'd been living in, and they'd come home for a few weeks until a new house could be found. Emmett at least had promised to try to be more careful after that, but Carlisle and Esme had both known from experience that that was easier said than done. Esme had many fond memories of the house she and Carlisle had destroyed on their first honeymoon, and though, for Edward's sake, they'd learn to restrain themselves to some degree after that, it was still far too easy to destroy furniture when they were…distracted by each other.

Even now, Esme never kept furniture she really treasured in their bedroom—it was bad enough having to replace the bed every few months, and Esme wasn't about to put antiques that she'd lovingly restored in the one room where they allowed themselves to get carried away. Emmett and Rosalie were a different story, however. Over the past few years, it had become very clear that they had no desire or capacity for controlling themselves when they were in the throes of passion, and this meant that aside from destroying furniture on a regular basis, they could be counted on to weaken the overall structure of a house to the point that it inevitably collapsed within a few months or at most a year or so after they moved in. The longest a house had ever lasted was two years, so for this, their sixth new home, Esme had sought out a house of a similar design. She knew that, like the others, it would be in ruins before long, but Esme was happy to think that Rosalie and Emmett would at least enjoy it while it lasted.

The sun emerged from behind a cloud then, and with a sigh, Esme cleaned up her painting things and went inside—she loved the sun room, but it was, by definition, a bit risky to use when the sun was out. As lovely as this house was, the fact that they had close neighbors on either side of them made it less than ideal. Still, it was strangely pleasant to live so near to humans after years of having houses in the country. Esme was happy to feel that she was finally safe enough, in control of herself enough to live so close to the sound of beating hearts and warm, pulsing blood…

Esme shook her head—she and Carlisle should go hunting later, just in case.

Carlisle came home just after dark—his shift had ended an hour before, but the sudden break in cloud cover at the end of the day had forced him to stay inside until the sun set. As soon as he took of his coat and put down his bag, they slipped out the back door and ran to the forest nearby to hunt. After a few deer, Esme felt relaxed again—she worried when she even caught herself thinking about human blood anymore, though it had been years now since she'd last slipped. Still, Esme knew that it would still be all too easy for her to make a mistake, and Esme was determined to never take a human life again.

"How's the painting going?" Carlisle asked as they buried their deer carcasses together. "Can I have a look when we get home?"

"No, it's still not quite finished," Esme said, wanting the painting to complete before anyone, even Carlisle, saw it. "I'm working on Emmett's hair now, and I think I can put the finishing touches on Rose's tomorrow. I still have to work on some shadows that don't seem quite right, and the lace on Rose's dress is going to take a bit more work, so…next week. Then you can see it."

Carlisle smiled at her. "No rush. Whenever you'd like."

Esme sighed. "Honestly, I was a bit frustrated with it by the time I stopped today. Whenever I start a painting, it's so easy to see all the potential it has, and I can imagine how it will look when it's finished. But now, when I'm almost done, all I can see are the little things that I need to fix before I'll be satisfied, and even then, I can't promise that I won't have to go sneaking into Rose and Emmett's house someday to fix some imperfection I missed before. And of course, the sun came out just when was about to finish Emmett's hair…"

Carlisle put his arm around her as she trailed off, and Esme was glad he didn't try to soothe her. They both knew that she wasn't really upset—art was a labor of love for Esme, but it could be work too, even if she was fixing mistakes that only she could see in a painting that the recipients were sure to love, even if not every strand of hair looked real to the artist's discerning eyes.

Esme put her arm around Carlisle's waist as they moved toward home slowly, at a human pace. "And I suppose I was feeling a bit guilty this afternoon, too. Working on that painting, I couldn't help but think about Emmett and Rose and how much I miss them, after they lived with us all last year…But I also kept thinking about how glad I am that they're in a house of their own again. It's so strange, to feel the absence of someone but be grateful for it too. And it's the same with Edward, in a way. As much as I miss him, I know he must be happy having his own place and earning another degree. I'm not glad he's gone exactly, but I know that it's better for all of us this way—we're all happier to see each other again after a little time apart, present company excluded."

Carlisle smiled. "Likewise, and I agree about Edward. He certainly seems to be enjoying his new classes."

They were silent for a moment as they both thought about their eldest son. Edward had left for Stanford three weeks ago, and though it was a bit harder having him out of the house than it was to have his brother and sister gone, Esme knew that Edward was enjoying having his own apartment and almost unlimited time to study and think. Until Emmett and Rosalie had moved out, Edward had had four minds to try and ignore, and that had made it difficult for him to concentrate on anything but trying not to hear the private thoughts of family members. The day he'd put his bags in his car and driven away, he'd seemed a bit sad, but also more than a little relieved.

"You know, Rosalie called my office this afternoon while she was out shopping to tell me that they'd had another long letter from Edward yesterday," Carlisle said.

Esme raised her eyebrows, amazed. "A letter to both of them again? Not just Emmett?"

"To both of them," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "Rosalie actually called to ask me what sort of book I thought Edward might like, because his birthday's coming up."

Esme laughed. "In the case of those two, apparently absence really does make the heart grow fonder! When they live in the same house, they get so irritated with each other, but when they're apart, he writes to her and Emmett almost as often as he writes to us."

Carlisle nodded. "It's easier for both of them, I think. When Edward doesn't have to hear her thoughts, and when Rosalie knows he can't hear what she's thinking, of course they get along better. They're rather alike in so many ways—they're both very…determined people, and since they started off on less than friendly terms, it's a pleasant surprise to find that they don't seem committed to their former enmity."

"And you and Rose are friends now too," Esme said, shaking her head in wonder. "I always knew you would be, someday, but you're right—she can be so stubborn that I was afraid that she might keep disliking you, just on principle, even now that she's happier."

Carlisle shrugged, smiling a little. "I'd consider us friends, but I think it might take another decade before Rosalie will admit it. It's been difficult for her, adjusting to this life, and I think it's easier for her to be happy when she doesn't have to see me every day and be reminded of everything she's lost."

"It's a bit easier for you too, isn't it?" Esme said quietly. "When she and Emmett live on their own, I mean."

"The first time they moved away, I certainly felt more relieved than I wanted to admit," Carlisle agreed, his voice sad. "Before she found Emmett, it was hard seeing Rosalie every day, knowing how unhappy she was, and knowing that it was my fault that she was frozen that way, forever."

"You saved her," Esme disagreed gently. "The same way you did with me, and with Edward and Emmett. Rose admits that she'd rather have this sort of life than no life at all."

Carlisle shook his head. "You told me once that you were ready for your human life to be over, and so it wasn't such a struggle to accept this life. But Rosalie was about to get everything she thought she wanted. To have the life she wanted taken from her by the very person she thought was going to make her dreams complete…she's never going to be able to forget that. Royce King is dead, but the way he ended her human life, and the fact that Rosalie can remember it perfectly is always going to hard for her. I've never regretted changing her, but I just wish I could make it so that she could choose which memories of her human life to keep. If she could discard the bad and keep the good, then maybe she wouldn't have suffered the way she has."

Esme squeezed Carlisle's hand. He didn't blame Rosalie for her bitterness toward him—rather, he was simply sorry that in saving her from death, he'd doomed her to an eternity of memories of how she'd died. Rosalie's anger at him over the past decade hadn't hurt him nearly as much as his own feelings of guilt had. And of course, when Carlisle talked about choosing which human memories they kept, Esme knew that he was referring to her as much as he was Rosalie. Esme had many memories which would always haunt her, and which Carlisle would always wish he could save her the pain of.

Carlisle shrugged, obviously trying to sound casual now. "It was good to talk to her today. Just hearing how happy she is was wonderful."

Esme smiled. "I'm really looking forward to the day when Rosalie can finally bring herself to tell you that she loves you, because she does. She just can't quite admit it yet."

Carlisle shrugged again, noncommittal, but his smile seemed more genuine now. Esme could tell that he wanted to believe that Rosalie cared for him, even if he didn't quite dare to believe it yet.

As they'd been walking, it had started to snow. The moon was now obscured by clouds, and as they neared the edge of the forest, Esme slowed down, glancing back into the deeper darkness of the trees.

"If we go home now, we're going to have to be quiet," she said thoughtfully.

Carlisle raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Why, whatever you do mean, Mrs. Cullen?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Dr. Cullen," Esme said, laughing as she pulled him close by his tie and kissed him on the tip of his nose. "Let's stay out here tonight. We can go home early tomorrow, while it's still dark. It's either that, or we go home and wake the neighbors."

Carlisle grinned and allowed Esme to lead him into a thicker copse of trees. They could both agree that it was a novel pleasure to have the freedom to do something like this—as long as Edward, Emmett and Rosalie had lived at home, they'd almost never stayed outside all night, enjoying each other's company in the relative privacy of a secluded patch of forest. Emmett, inevitably, would have teased them about this the following day, and poor Edward would have had to struggle to drown out their memories of such a night. Esme sometimes regretted the absence of their children…but at times like these, she rather relished it.


	129. Test

Hi everyone! This week, I've got three—yes, _three_—chapters for you! Only two are ready today though, so look for another chapter on Wednesday or Thursday this week. (I'm on spring break now, so I'm going to try and have three more ready for next week too. :)) This first one is about Emmett taking a driver's test, as well as the kinds of activities I imagine the Cullens pursuing while attending high schools large enough that, unlike in Forks, they might not attract a potentially dangerous amount of attention. Thank you as always for your wonderful, wonderful reviews, and look for another chapter after this one!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 44 days until "The Official Illustrated Guide" is released! :)

_1991_: Test

Emmett's POV

In the parking lot behind the high school, Emmett was waiting for Esme and the driving instructor to arrive so he could take his driver's test. He had a license, of course—he'd had one for decades, though he'd had to get a new one every once in a while, sometimes with a different name or age on it—but he'd never actually taken a driving test until now, and he was only taking one today because he'd lost a bet with Jasper. The bet itself had been ridiculous, so Emmett wasn't surprised that, as the loser, he'd had to do something ridiculous.

Where they were living now, in New York state, there were a lot of animals to choose from when hunting, but not many of the big predators that Emmett preferred. Jasper wasn't thrilled with the hunting either, so one night, to make things more interesting, he'd challenged Emmett to see who could catch and drain the most rabbits in ten minutes. The loser, he'd said, would have to take driver's education during the new semester and then take a driving test and pass before he could drive again. Emmett had agreed, despite the fact that Alice had looked smug before the contest even started—he'd been sure that she was just trying to psyche him out. Winning should have been easy: rabbits were small and fast, and they contained so little blood that they weren't something that Emmett had ever hunted much, but he felt confident enough in his ability to catch rodents to bet his driving privileges for a few weeks.

Unfortunately, his confidence had been misplaced. After ten minutes, he'd only gotten twelve rabbits, while Jasper had found fifteen. At the time, Emmett had been irritated, but now that he was about to taking the driving test, he realized that he'd ended up enjoying his time driver's ed. Emmett already knew all the answers to the test questions, and the cheesy videos that depicted what happened to unsafe teenage drivers were hilarious. Now, after "practicing" driving for a set number of hours with a parent's supervision (he'd been chauffeuring Carlisle and Esme around town for weeks, much to their amusement), he was ready to take the driving test. As soon as Esme and the driving instructor arrived, the test would begin, but Emmett knew that he was a few minutes early; while he waited, he tried not to imagine what the driving instructor would be like, and how terrified he or she would be when they saw who they were giving the test to. It was definitely going to be hard to resist the urge to laugh.

To celebrate the recovery of his driving privileges, he and Rosalie were planning to go see a movie that night, as soon as she was finished with orchestra practice. Emmett grinned at the thought of Rosalie's extracurricular activities at their current school: it was a large school, not too far from New York City, which made it possible for all of the Cullens to actually join school groups without drawing too much attention to themselves. Consequently, Edward frequently assisted the choir or band directors by acting as the piano accompanist after school, though he also sometimes sat in on Quizbowl practices. Rosalie, who had learned the basics of the harp and the piano as a human, had decided to learn to play the violin earlier that year; now she was the first chair violinist and well known in the orchestra for her proficiency in all three instruments she'd studied. At first, there had been some concern that her talent made her too conspicuous, but it quickly became clear that the orchestra was full of talented humans who were skilled at three or more instruments; though Rose's beauty made her noticeable, being surrounded by humans with similar skills made it easier than usual for her to pass for human. Rosalie even had humans that she could almost call friends, though they never socialized outside of school, and all they talked about was music.

Jasper, to Emmett's amusement, had joined the chess club, and was working part-time at a bookstore. As his brother, Emmett felt that it was his duty to at least occasionally make fun of Jasper's rather (in Emmett's opinion) boring activities, but having heard Jasper's stories of what life in the south had been like when he'd helped to lead a newborn army, Emmett could understand why Jasper enjoyed quiet hobbies now. Alice, true to form, had joined the drama club, though rather than acting, she became a costume designer, which had appeased the human actresses wary of her beauty. The other costume designers had quickly welcomed her when they discovered that Alice Cullen's rich parents were happy to pay for costume supplies.

Alice had also joined a choir group, so between Alice, Edward, and Rosalie, the Cullens were considered a very talented family, though not the school's _most_ talented family—that title was held by the Chase kids, who were quintuplets that, by human standards, were extremely smart and musically gifted. The Cullens were all grateful for the Chase family, because thanks to them, they could be gifted but not unusually so; they could be almost normal without having to hide everything they were good at. It was more fun than Emmett had expected, attending a school that was large enough for them to show off some of their talents without suspicion. Of course, he still didn't dare play sports, but he was enjoying his current extracurriculars.

Emmett's activities included the Science Olympiad team, which was fun because whenever they could get away with it, the team liked to conduct experiments that involved blowing things up, which Emmett enjoyed, and a part-time job in the sporting goods store in the mall. Emmett grinned again at the thought of his job; working was like a game in some ways, in that it was something else that he and Jasper got competitive about, but really, every Cullen played a similar game every day. The object of the game was to be as human as possible, which meant a number of things: you had to interact with humans without inadvertently scaring them, you had to be good at the things you did without being so good that you attracted undue attention, and you couldn't make mistakes that resulted in human deaths. Of course, the most important part of pretending to be human could also be the most difficult.

Emmett felt good when it came to his self control—it had been twenty years since the last time he'd slipped, and he was happy about that. So was Rosalie, because the better he could control himself, the more they could travel, work, and go to school without having to worry about attracting attention. Though Rosalie enjoyed high school (and the novelty of having something like friends there), she was already looking forward to their next wedding, their next stint in college, the next time they would take a trip, and the next time they would live on their own, and enjoy each other's company in the privacy of their own house…

Just then, Emmett saw Esme's car pull into the school parking lot, and right behind her, there was another car. Emmett grinned and went to meet Esme, who was already giving him a look that plainly said, "behave yourself."

"What?" Emmett said, still grinning. "You know I've practiced enough. I'll pass this, no problem."

"Just try to pass without scaring the teacher, if at all possible," Esme said with a sigh, glancing at the small woman, obviously the driving instructor, who stepped out of her car, took one look at Emmett, and became very pale.

"Emmett Cullen?" she asked nervously, looking up at Emmett as if she were really hoping he wasn't who she thought he was.

"Yes, ma'am," Emmett said, trying not to show his teeth when he smiled—he knew from experience that that made humans nervous—it was as if they instinctively knew that they were far sharper than human teeth were supposed to be.

"Thank you for coming today to administer Emmett's test," Esme said smoothly, moving to shake hands with the woman. "I'm his mother, Esme."

"Nice to meet you," the woman said, looking slightly reassured by Esme's far less imposing appearance, though a bit confused by her obvious youth. "I'm Liz Warner. Um, is that your car?"

Liz Warner was pointing at Esme's car, a blue convertible that Carlisle had given her for her last birthday. Esme didn't drive very often, but when she did, she loved to drive her little blue convertible with the top down, weather and adequate cloud cover permitting. Emmett could guess what the driving instructor was thinking: the car was clearly expensive, and not the sort of thing that any real teenage driver should have been allowed within fifty feet of.

"Yes, that's mine," Esme said cheerfully. "Don't worry, Emmett's practiced in it many times. He knows he'll be disowned if he does anything reckless in it."

Ms. Warner laughed a little nervously, but followed Emmett and Esme to the car, where she sat in the passenger seat, a clipboard with a score sheet clipped to it in her hand. Emmett took Esme's keys and sat down in the driver's seat and pushed the seat back to make room for his legs, and when he'd done this, Esme got into the backseat, looking perfectly calm. Liz Warner looked a great deal less calm as Emmett started the car, but her voice was mostly even when she said,

"All right, Emmett, take a left out of the parking lot and start driving toward the intersection."

Emmett did as he was told, and for the next forty minutes, he followed all of the instructor's directions. The longer he drove, the more relaxed Ms. Warner became, probably because she kept her eyes on the road and away from Emmett. And before Emmett knew it, the test was over. He'd done everything perfectly, and Liz Warner returned to her car, looking relieved, after she'd signed a form saying he'd passed the test. The next day, Emmett would have to go get his photo taken for his license.

Esme let Emmett drive them home. She didn't say much after her initial congratulations, but Emmett could tell by the way she was smiling that she was pleased.

"Here," Esme said, tossing Emmett a set of keys as he parked the convertible in the garage. "It's a gift, from Carlisle and me. For getting your driver's license, but also because you needed a new car anyway. That's according to Rosalie at least, who is the most reliable mechanic I know, but slightly biased when it comes to you and her needing new cars."

Emmett grinned at the logo on the keys. "A new Jeep, huh? Yeah, this is going to be my car only—I can't promise that I'll let Rose share it."

Esme rolled her eyes. "Well, try not to wreck this Jeep the way you did with the last one. Maybe you should always drive like you have a human in the passenger seat."

But Emmett was already running to check out his new car—he'd passed his driver's test, and until he and Rosalie went to the movies that evening, he was done pretending to be human. Before Rose got home, he was going to take a drive, and he was going to drive _fast_.


	130. Agony

Hi again everyone! Today's second chapter is from Jacob's point of view, and it's how I imagine that his opinion of vampires would have started to change when Carlisle treated his injuries at the end of "Eclipse." (I think that around this time, he might have stopped _hating _vampires, but he still wouldn't trust them). I'll see you again with another chapter later this week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm almost halfway done reading it on my Kindle. :)

_2006_: Agony

Jacob's POV

Hell. If hell's a real place, then it must be somewhere that your already broken bones get re-broken so they don't heal wrong. I was only sort of half aware when the mind-numbingly painful part of it ended, so it took me a few moments to figure out that I was in my room, that Sam and Dr. Fang were there, and that the doc was giving me more morphine, but my body was burning through it so fast that it didn't really make much difference.

"I'm going to go tell Billy you're nearly finished," Sam said, his voice a bit strange.

"I'll be right behind you," I heard the bloodsucker say. After I heard Sam leave, I forced myself to open my eyes—they kept slipping shut, because of the morphine I guess—so I could try and look at myself. But just the effort of trying to lift my head almost made me pass out.

"Wait a little while before you try to move, Jacob," Carlisle said gently, and I felt his cold hand on my good shoulder, pushing me so I was lying down again. I had to swallow a couple of times before I could manage to speak—my throat felt really sore—but Carlisle could see that I was trying to talk, so he leaned closer to hear me.

"Now…that Sam's gone," I whispered, "are you…going to tell me…how bad I'm hurt?"

Carlisle's face looked strange from the angle I was watching him from—bloodsuckers don't get tired, but Dr. Fang sure looked exhausted as he answered me, though he was smiling a little, probably trying to be reassuring.

"You're very badly hurt," he said frankly, "but you're healing so quickly that you should be back to normal just a few days from now. The fact that you heal so swiftly was the real problem today though. Your bones…well, they started to heal before I could straighten them out. So…"

"So, you had to…re-break a few," I said hoarsely.

Carlisle nodded, and his expression was almost…guilty. I mean, he definitely looked like he felt guilty, but I didn't see why he would. As far as I was concerned, now that the newborns were gone, we were enemies again. "Sam went out to speak to your father. You were...screaming quite a lot for a while, and I'm sure he was worried."

Screaming? Yikes. Somehow, the fact that I'd been screaming in pain a few minutes ago didn't seem as bad as the fact that I couldn't really remember that. I must have passed out for a bit.

"Here," Carlisle said, offering me some water. I wasn't thrilled when he lifted my head off my pillow for me, and the smell of leech made my stomach clench a little, but as soon as I swallowed some water, I felt better. Like maybe I wasn't going to die today.

"…thanks," I said, my voice still sounding strange, though that was partially because I was feeling the awkwardness of the moment now, even through the haze of the morphine. What do you say to the father of the guy who's trying to turn the girl you're in love with into a bloodsucking monster?

"You don't have to thank me, Jacob," Carlisle said quietly. "I'm sorry that we couldn't prevent your being injured today."

I tried to shrug, but realized as soon as I tried to move the right side of my body that that was a bad idea, so I just rolled my eyes.

"It's not your job to stop me from being stupid, doc," I muttered. "Or Leah. Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Carlisle said, smiling slightly. "Angry at you, when last I saw her, but quite unharmed."

"Lovely," I said, glaring up at my ceiling. "I save her life, and now she's probably going to hate me more than ever."

"I suppose that's possible," Carlisle said lightly. "She seemed to be taking what she saw as your interference rather personally."

We sat in silence for a moment, and I tried not to think about how freaked out my Dad must be, given how long it was taking Sam to convince him that the doc hadn't murdered me.

"So..." I said uncomfortably, trying to think of something to say. I probably could have fallen asleep, but after the day I'd had, I wasn't totally thrilled with the idea of nodding off while I was alone in my room with a vampire. "I'm really going to be okay now? I mean, in a few days, no more broken bones? Because right now, it feels like the whole right side of my body has pretty much been crushed."

"Do you need some more morphine, Jacob?" Carlisle said, sounding concerned.

"That would probably be good, yeah," I said, wincing as I tried to shift into some position where I didn't feel like shrieking in pain. Faster than I could see, the doc pulled a vial and a syringe out of his black bag, and a second later, I felt a slight pain in my arm, followed by a sort of sleepy, drifting feeling.

"You should probably try to sleep," Carlisle said. "Your body will burn away that morphine in a few minutes, so you should rest while you can."

I shut my eyes and remembered just in time that I shouldn't try to nod my head. Then, just as I was feeling like I was going to fall asleep any second, I forced myself to say something that I'd been thinking about ever since Bella told me about her plans for after graduation. I wondered briefly if Carlisle would really tell me the truth, but after the way he'd fixed me up today (when he had no real reason to help me), I didn't think he would lie. What would be the point?

"Does it…hurt worse that this…becoming a vampire, I mean?" I said drowsily.

Carlisle was silent for so long that I was on the verge of sleep when he finally spoke.

"Honestly Jacob, I think it's much worse," he said quietly. I kept my eyes shut, but in spite of the morphine, it took me several minutes to fall asleep after that. Thinking about Bella feeling any pain that was worse than all my broken bones made my own pain seem unimportant by comparison. Of course, she might have decided to choose me—the way we'd kissed earlier that day made it at least seem possible. But if she didn't…then when Edward made her into a bloodsucker too, I was going to learn about a whole new kind of agony.


	131. Running

Merry Wednesday, everyone! Today's chapter is about Esme's life just after leaving her husband and escaping to Ashland. Hope you're having a great week, and I'll see you again on Sunday with three new chapters. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't wait for "The Official Illustrated Guide"! :)

_1920_: Running

Esme's POV

At first, Esme hadn't been sure where exactly she was going. After getting home from the doctor, she'd moved around the house in a kind of daze. It had been early afternoon—she'd known Charles would be home in just a few hours, so she'd collected some clothes, money, and a few valuables that she could sell. In minutes, her suitcase was packed, and she was walking, leaving her home and her husband behind. She was scared, but determined: she would not raise a child in the same house as Charles Evanson. He was a cruel, violent husband, and he would surely be a cruel, violent father as well. Esme didn't care where she ended up; anywhere she went would be better than staying with Charles.

When she looked back on that day as she slowly made her way out of Ohio, Esme was a bit surprised at how easy it had been to leave. She'd put up with Charles' abuse for so long because…well, once she was away from him, it had been hard to understand why she'd stayed with him as long as she had. She'd had no where else to go, that had certainly been a part of it. When her parents had refused to help her when she'd told them about Charles—when her mother had told her to work harder, and be a better wife—Esme had lost all desire to see them ever again, let alone live with them. And she'd been too ashamed to tell her friends—their husbands didn't beat them, so what was it about her that gave Charles the urge to lash out?

For a long time, she'd felt that it must be her fault somehow, and she'd been so concerned with simply surviving day to day with as few injuries as possible that she'd barely contemplated _why_ she was trapped with such a husband. In time, Charles had come to seem almost like a force of nature, a thing to be endured with resignation, rather than a person who she could escape. But while he was away during the Great War, Esme had had a lot of time to think.

Without Charles there to terrorize her every day, she could remember her life before Charles, and she could begin to imagine a life after him. She'd hoped, _prayed_ daily that he wouldn't come home from the war. But she'd worried that he would, and so she'd started preparing for that. First, she buried a box of money in the yard. Then she hid most of her jewelry under a loose floorboard. And when Charles had come home, things had gone back to the way they'd been before, but with one important difference: Esme had her hidden valuables, which she'd planned to add to until she had enough money to escape from Charles for good. She would save her money, hide gifts friends gave her so she might sell them later, and someday she would be able to buy a train ticket that would take her to New York, or California—somewhere so far from Charles Evanson, and her parents, that they would never find her.

But then Charles had forced himself on her one night, and soon after, Esme found herself feeling a bit strange. At first, she'd hoped that she was ill, that she'd eaten something off, but then she'd gone to the doctor, and he'd told her she was going to have a baby. So, Esme had taken what money and valuables she'd been able to save and disappeared. Now, after several days of travel, her train was nearing its destination, and Esme prepared to disembark, determined to find a job and a place to live as soon as she could—she was nearly out of money, but even if she was able to go without food for a few days, she didn't dare let her growing child go hungry.

Getting off the train in Ashland, Esme thanked a porter for helping her with her now almost empty suitcase and looked around. She'd had to sell the last of her jewelry to pay for the ticket to northern Wisconsin, which was about as far from Ohio as she could get with the money she'd saved. There were bigger cities, certainly, where she might have tried to hide herself—but Esme guessed that Charles might think to look for her there—her parents would remember her dreams of visiting New York and Chicago someday, and they would hopefully focus their enquiries into her whereabouts in big cities. Ashland was a good choice because it was far from the sort of place that Esme would have wanted to settle in, if she'd had enough money to be particular. No, it was not the best choice for someone looking for a place to hide, but it was the best that she could do for now. After the baby was born, if she'd saved enough money, they could go further west, but until then, it seemed best to stay put and find a job so she could earn money as long as she was physically able to.

As she made her way toward the station's exit, Esme rehearsed what she was going to say to people here. She'd been practicing her story ever since she'd left Ohio: when asked, she would say that she was Mrs. Richard Platt, that her husband had been wounded in the war and had died recently, and that they had lived in Akron, Ohio. She would say that she had no family, which was true in the sense that Esme had no family she wanted to see, and that she was looking for work. She was a few months along now, far enough along that she was showing, and she hoped that someone would pity her, the poor pregnant widow, and give her a job, maybe in a shop or a restaurant. Any work would do as long as it didn't hurt the baby.

Esme was walking down the steps outside the station when she slipped—she realized as she was falling that the heel of one of her shoes, which had been worn down a great deal in the day she'd spent walking before getting on the train, had broken off. But just as she was about to hit the ground, a man caught her arm and steadied her.

"Are you all right?" he said, his voice concerned, and for an instant, Esme was wildly, irrationally happy, because she knew that voice, that kind, beautiful voice—

She looked up and met the eyes of a man with gray hair and glasses, who was looking at her expectantly. Esme realized belatedly that he was waiting for an answer, and she blushed, embarrassed, but also saddened more than she could possibly explain to this helpful stranger.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you," Esme said, looking around for the lost heel of her shoe to try and distract the man from her odd behavior. "My shoe broke, that's all, and they're my only shoes until I can find a job, and—"

"Are you new in town?" the man asked gently. Esme stopped babbling and nodded, thinking it must be obvious, given how miserable and lost she looked.

"Then if you don't mind letting a slow old man lead the way, I can show you a good boarding house a few blocks from here," the man said, smiling. "My name is Thomas Hayes, and my daughter's husband owns the place I'm talking about it. It's a fine old house, with good rooms, for a good price. Dear me though, I'm sounding like an advertisement! Pardon me, young lady. If you don't mind my asking, what is your name?"

"Esme," Esme said promptly—she'd been debating whether or not to ask people to call her by her middle name, Anne, but she couldn't lie even that much to this nice old man. "Esme Platt."

On the way to the boarding house, she told Mr. Hayes the story she'd prepared as calmly as she could, but while he expressed his sympathy, Esme realized that, quite by accident, she probably looked as miserable as a grieving widow with a baby on the way should. But of course she wasn't sad about Charles—alive or dead, he mattered little to her now, provided that he was far away. No, Esme was upset because when Mr. Hayes had caught her arm and spoken to her, she'd mistaken him for someone else.

_How could I be so foolish? _Esme wondered bleakly. _Mr. Hayes sounds nothing like Carlisle! For just a moment, I was so sure it was him…but of course, I just wanted it to be him. What _would_ I do, if he found me now? Would he even recognize me?_

Esme tried to keep up her end of the conversation with Mr. Hayes—he told her that he'd just gone to visit his son, whose wife had just had a baby girl, and that if Esme was looking for work, she might enquire at the school, where he knew that the teacher needed someone to help out—but Esme couldn't help but think of Carlisle. For the past few days, she'd been trying to keep her usual fantasies about the doctor under control; she'd needed her wits to make her escape as quickly and quietly as possible, but as soon as she was out of Ohio, she'd begun to wonder about Dr. Cullen. It was so tempting, but so foolhardy, to imagine how much her life might change if she met Carlisle somewhere in her travels.

What if he did remember her? What if he could forgive the fact that she was going to be having another man's child in a few months time? What if he could learn to love that child, because he loved her as much as she loved him? What if…but Esme knew that she was being ridiculous. Carlisle was just a dream, a fantasy that had sustained her for a decade, not a reality that could help her now. She was going to have to find a way to support herself, and her child, without the help of a man who probably didn't even remember she existed.

After they reached the boarding house and Mr. Hayes introduced Esme to his daughter and son-in-law, he said goodbye, and Esme's new landlady walked with her to the school, where she was hired as the teacher's assistant immediately. Apparently she was the only applicant for the job—there were women in town who wanted work, yes, but the job of assistant school teacher would pay little for a great deal of work. Esme liked children, and she had always wanted to teach, so the teacher agreed to hire her on the grounds that she seemed kind and literate. Also, several new families had moved to Ashland in the past few weeks, so the lone teacher in town was overworked and wanted help controlling her large, unruly class as soon as she could find it. Esme agreed to present herself at the schoolhouse door the following morning, and then she and the landlady returned to the boarding house, chatting happily. Esme was grateful and relieved to have found a job and a place to live so quickly, and the landlady was inclined to be cheerful because her new tenant now had a way to pay her rent.

Later that evening, after Esme had unpacked the few clothes she hadn't sold and settled under a borrowed quilt in her bed at the boarding house, she thought about Carlisle again. For years now, she'd been thinking of him when she wanted to escape from reality, and though her reality had improved a great deal in the past few hours, she still craved the comfort that the thought of him provided. She knew that she was in love with her idea of the man she'd met years ago, rather than the man himself, but the fact that she was in love with a person she'd imagined didn't make her dreams of him any less necessary.

Even though he was a fantasy, thinking about Carlisle had made it easier for Esme to leave Charles the way she had. She had done it for her child, and for herself, but her dreams about Carlisle had also provided her with the illusion that she wasn't just running away—she was running _toward_ something. Thinking about Carlisle made it possible for Esme to believe that she was more than just a fugitive: she was a woman living her own life and making her own decisions now. In running away from Charles, Esme knew she had ensured a better life for herself and her child. And if she ran into Carlisle someday…well, then that would just be the icing on the cake.


	132. Dust

Hi everyone! Today's first chapter is a long one; it's my explanation for how Carlisle came to possess the cross his father carved for his church. (It also features the return of Carlisle's friend from Chapter 100, a vampire who was turned when she was an old woman and who often changes her name :)). Thank you so much for all your great reviews, and look for two more chapters tonight!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, who is in fact awesome, is the author of "Twilight."

_1725_: Dust

Carlisle's POV

It was a typical chilly, foggy March day in London when Carlisle stepped into the square where his father's church had once stood. It had been years since he'd last been here, and though he knew that it was to be expected that the city had changed, it was still a bit shocking to see so many new buildings in the place of old ones, new people living in the houses of friends that had died long ago…and of course, his father was gone.

Carlisle sighed. He and his father hadn't been close by any means, and though Carlisle had respected his father, he felt that it would be inaccurate to say that he'd loved the man, or had even cared for him really. He'd obeyed him, as a good son was supposed to, though he'd often disagreed with his father's beliefs regarding the nature and vessels of evil, but then he'd become one of the very creatures that his father had spent his life trying to rid the world of. And now he was home again, or at least, he was standing just a few yards from where the church, once the center of his life, had been built over a century and a half ago, and he was looking for his father's grave.

_The church is gone,_ Carlisle thought grimly. _When they tore that down, they probably build over the graveyard too._

Sure enough, when Carlisle tried to measure the distance between the building that had replaced his father's church and the building across the street by counting his steps, he found that the place his father's grave had been when he'd last visited it, decades ago, was now covered with cobblestones. Carlisle was more puzzled than angry or saddened. He wondered who made decisions like these—to tear down a church and build a road over a graveyard. How long did someone have to be dead before they were so completely forgotten, their lives considered so distant and unimportant to the living that their graves would be covered with cobblestones, the eternal rest that they'd been promised forever shattered by the rumbling of wheels overhead?

Carlisle shook his head and moved out of the street so a carriage could pass. He wandered toward the center of town, pulling his coat closer to him and pretending to shiver the same way that the humans around him did against the chill of the fog. He would be leaving for America in just a few days time—he'd considered swimming there, but it would take so long and he would be so terribly thirsty when he arrived that paying for passage on a ship seemed to be the best option. Before leaving Italy, Aro had given him enough money to pay for the journey, and though Carlisle had only three trunks full of books, clothes, and a few paintings to his name, it was still comforting to think that he would arrive in America with more possessions that he'd left England with as a young vampire

"Spare some change, sir?" the old woman said, her head bowed, her voice weak and hoarse with age.

Carlisle reached into his pocket for some coins, but he paused when he recognized the woman's scent.

"Liza?" he said, shocked.

"Oh, it's you, is it?" the woman said, and raised her head, the raspy voice gone, replaced by a tone of amusement. "I was wondering when I'd see you again, young man. And it's not Liza anymore, I'm calling myself Catherine these days. Are you still going by Carlisle?"

"Yes, and you're Catherine now?" he asked, staring at her dress. It wasn't the garb of a wealthy woman, but it wasn't a beggar's rags either. "Why are you begging?"

"Silly, I'm not begging," she said, taking his arm and slipping hers through his as she moved to walk beside him. "I saw you from across the street and thought I'd try to give you a bit of a scare. Were you looking for your father's church?"

"Yes," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "You warned me in your letters that it was gone, and that all of London had changed, but I suppose that I couldn't really believe it until I saw it. Did they just build the road over his grave?"

"By my recollection, there wasn't much of anything left of the old graveyard by the time they built this road," Catherine said, raising her eyebrows at him. "I told you your father died not two years after you left for France, and with him gone, and with everyone thinking you were dead, the members of the congregation left the church. It fell into disrepair, and soon the old graveyard became more of a field with a few old stones lurking in the tall grass. That was almost fifty years ago, and you're surprised that everything's gone?"

"I know, you told me all this," Carlisle said, shaking his head. "It's just different, actually seeing it all in person. All these years, I've been imagining my father's church still here, imagining that there was a grave for me to visit. But there's nothing left of him."

"Nothing left of your human life, you mean," Catherine said with a snort. "That's what this is really about, isn't it? You were hoping to come back here, maybe centuries from now, and find the place looking like it did when you were alive. Your friends in Italy are so old that that they've accepted that the world they were born into is gone. But you and I are young, by the standards of our kind at least. It's harder for us to accept that we've been alive for several lifetimes now now, and the places we remember from our human lives are disappearing. Someday, we'll come back here, and there won't be a single thing left that proves our old lives were real…that we were ever human."

"We are all come from dust, and unto dust we shall return," Carlisle said quietly, and Catherine chuckled.

"Oh, now don't be morbid," she said. "We may be undead creatures of the night, but that's no excuse for being grim and melancholy."

"Sorry," Carlisle said, smiling faintly. "So are you saying that I'm getting old and averse to change?"

"No, I'm only saying that you don't like the world to change as fast as you do," Catherine said, skipping over a puddle. "That is, you change every day, on the inside at least, when you learn something new or make a new acquaintance. But on the outside, you stay the same. And I just think that you'd prefer that the world change that way too—that the people and places of London might develop without anyone making superficial changes. That's how I feel as well, really. Going down an old street that's been completely rebuilt is more than a little depressing. It makes me feel as though I'm disconnected from everything—that I'm going to be frozen this way forever, and the world is going to go on changing. No matter what sort of person I am in another hundred years, I think I'm still going to watch this city change and feel a bit sad. Because no matter how much I wish for it, all those changes are going to sort of leave me behind. I can't age as London does, and so I'm sort of…adrift. My human life seems like a fiction, because so few of the things that were here when I was growing up are left, either physically or even in human memory."

"As you said though, we change on the inside," Carlisle said comfortingly. "And even if we have no landmarks to belabor that point, at least we have our friends to remind us of how we've changed."

"True," Catherine said, smiling at Carlisle, "though I must say I'm pleasantly surprised to find that Volterra hasn't changed you much. I was a bit worried that those old specters were going to turn you as gaunt and bloodthirsty as they are."

Carlisle shook his head grimly. "If anything, my time in Volterra has made me more committed than ever to living without human blood. The Volturi's love of the arts and sciences is commendable, and I learned a great deal in their company. But their diet…well, I tried in vain to convince them to change their ways, and the same was true of their efforts to dissuade me from abstaining as I do." He looked at Catherine out of the corner of his eye. "I don't suppose I'm ever going to convince you to try living as I do, am I?"

"You know I've tried," Catherine said with a sigh. "I leave town now and then for a deer or two, but they just taste awful. Give me a fresh murderer any day."

They walked for hours, exploring London and discussing how the city had changed over the past few decades. Finally, when Carlisle was getting ready to return to his hotel to prepare for the voyage ahead of him, they stopped by Catherine's home. It was the sort aging, rundown apartment she seemed to favor, though the neighborhood in which she lived was well kept and in a good part of town.

"This apartment reminds me of your old one," Carlisle said, glancing at the faded whitewash on the walls around him. "It's certainly…inconspicuous."

"I'm supposed to be a batty old woman, remember?" Catherine said as she led him upstairs. "It wouldn't too for me to live anywhere too nice. Living in a place like this makes people pity me, and though I don't much care for that, it's better than anyone getting suspicious. Now that you've got a profession and steady income, be careful not to spend too much of your money on where you live—you look too young to afford nice things."

"From everything I've heard, America doesn't have many nice things just yet," Carlisle said, stepping into Catherine's rooms. "Of course, most of Europe seems to have a rather low opinion of our colonies at the moment. People make the place sound like a land of savagery and dissolution."

"Well, that's because it sounds as though the colonies aren't always as subservient as the powers that be might prefer," Catherine said, closing the door behind them. "People don't like people who upset the natural order of things. You, however, should fit right in with the religious zealots and other oddballs across the pond, what with your iconoclastic diet and revolutionary ideas about not killing humans."

"Thank you," Carlisle said drily, watching Catherine disappear into another room. "I should really go soon, Catherine. The sooner I find a ship that I can slip aboard discreetly, the better. The fog will too, provided I leave before it clears."

"Don't worry, you can leave directly," she called, "though why a man who's immortal should be impatient to start a journey I can't understand."

Carlisle shrugged apologetically, though he knew she couldn't see him. "I'm sorry. I'm just excited at the thought of exploring the new world. I've been reading about it for over a century, and now I think it's time I saw it for myself. The hunting should be excellent, more variety than what I can find here, and after Volterra and all its history, I'm eager to live in a place where there isn't a hierarchy of rulers or a system of laws that expects my deference and loyalty."

"Here," Catherine said, emerging from the next room carrying something wrapped in a sheet. "I've been meaning to give this to you for a long time, so I'm glad I ran into you today. It's something to remind you of your old life when you're living in America."

Curious, Carlisle opened the sheet and stared at the thing inside, shocked. It was the cross his father had carved over a century ago, the one that had hung above the altar in the church.

"You…saved this for me?" Carlisle whispered. He'd thought that he would never see the old cross again.

"There's some proof for you," Catherine said quietly. "That you were human once, but also that you're still more human than most people. Otherwise you wouldn't feel anything at all for an old piece of wood."

"My father worked for ages on this," Carlisle said wonderingly, shaking his head. "He could have gotten one in a shop, but he insisted on making it himself. He said it would be better that way—that even though he wasn't much of a carver, it would be better to have a cross that showed his dedication to his cause."

"You loved the man, in spite of all the trouble he caused the poor humans he thought were evil creatures," Catherine said, smiling fondly at him.

Carlisle shook his head. "I wouldn't call it love exactly, but I admired him a great deal. And I still do—I disagreed with him on many matters, but he always kept his word, and he stuck to what he believed in no matter what. "

"In that respect then, if in no other, you are your father's son," Catherine said, patting his hand. "Now, come on. You have a journey to start, and I have hunting to do."

They went back downstairs, and when they were in the street again, Catherine gave Carlisle a brief hug.

"We'll say goodbye now," she said quietly, "and though I'm sad to see you go, I hope you enjoy the new world."

"Thank you, Catherine," Carlisle said, kissing the top of her head. "You could come with me, you know."

Catherine snorted. "Fat bloody chance of that happening, son. I like it here, though I'm tempted to tour the colonies sometime. Australia at least might be fun. It's mostly criminals there, and I hear there are plenty of interesting animals there, if you ever wanted to visit."

"Well, you're likewise welcome to visit me in America," Carlisle said, holding his father's cross, wrapped in the sheet again, carefully against his chest. "And who knows. Maybe there, I'll find others who also observe my iconoclastic diet."

"As the bard said, 'what brave new world that has such people in it,'" Catherine said with a smirk. Then, with a final wave goodbye, she disappeared into the fog. Carlisle began walking in the other direction, cradling his father's cross in his arms, grateful that at least this one piece of his past had not yet returned to dust.


	133. Competitive

Hi again! I've been wanting to do a chapter like this for a while now—I think that Irina gets kind of a bad rap both in the Twilight Saga and in my stories (I usually seem to write about her as if she were an even more bad-tempered version of Rosalie), so here's a chapter that attempts to show her being a bit less grumpy—I think that after Edward left Carlisle and Esme to live on his own, all of the Denalis would have done their best to comfort them. :) Hope you had a great weekend, and look for one more chapter after this!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, as you know, is the author of "Twilight." :)

_1928_: Competitive

Irina's POV

Toronto could hardly be considered an ideal place for a vacation this time of year, given the constant cold and snow that plagued travelers every time they stepped out of doors, but for visitors of the immortal persuasion, the weather was more of a bonus than a drawback. After all, there were few human tourists to avoid, and Irina was pleased to see that when she, Esme, Carmen, Tanya and Kate stepped into what was usually a busy department store, they practically had the place to themselves.

"Do we all want to look at dresses, or should we split up and meet there in a few minutes?" Carmen wondered. "Personally, I could use a new pair of gloves, but the type I get will depend on the dress…"

"And I'd like a new hat," Kate said thoughtfully. "I know they aren't as fashionable as they were a few years ago, but I liked the hat I used to wear with my flapper dress—you know, the beaded one. The dress I mean—the hat was the one with the fake flower on the side."

"You always look lovely with your hair pinned up under a hat like that," Tanya agreed, running her fingers through her own hair. "Mine's longer than yours, so it always looked a bit odd, trying to pin my hair so that it resembled a bob."

"Try something bigger then," Irina said, glancing toward the hats herself. "We only wear hats when we're out among humans, so who cares if they look a bit silly?"

"They're supposed to be fashionable, I think," Esme said, smiling slightly in the direction of the hats. "Compared to the styles of a few years ago, these do look a bit large, but maybe that's more popular here."

"Given the cold this time of year, if I were human, I'd want a large, sturdy hat like that," Kate said, nodding at one that appeared to be made of wool. "Well, I'll just stop and study these for a few minutes and meet you by the dresses."

"I'm going to look for a new necklace then," Tanya said, giving Carmen and Esme a sidelong glance. "Not all of us have husbands to buy us jewelry—some of us have to pick things out for ourselves."

"Well, you're lucky then, aren't you, because you can pick what you like and buy it instead of receiving a gift that isn't to your taste but having to pretend you like it anyway," Carmen said, rolling her eyes.

Esme laughed. "Carlisle knows I don't much care for jewelry, but so far, when he has gotten something for me, it hasn't been too bad. He doesn't always pick things I'd choose for myself, but he's never given me anything that I haven't liked wearing, once I found the right outfit to pair it with."

Carmen shook her head, smiling fondly. "Eleazar has impeccable taste when it comes to almost everything else, but he makes the oddest choices sometimes when he gets it into his head to buy me jewelry. He thinks gaudy pieces must be best when it comes to trinkets, and though he knows that subtle things are more my taste, he must imagine me dressing like a queen or something. Who knows? Maybe that will be the style someday, and I'll have a use for some of the large gold things I'm a bit too shy to wear at the moment."

Irina followed the pair of happy wives to the dress department, leaving Kate and Tanya behind to browse. "To hear the two of you talk, Carlisle and Eleazar understand their wives perfectly, except when it comes to jewelry."

"And clothing," Carmen put in, and Esme laughed. "He knows better than to try and pick out clothes for me."

"I don't think it's their fault," Esme said, still giggling. "I think that we could know each other a thousand years and Carlisle still wouldn't understand fashion. I mean, he understands it objectively. But in practice…"

"They both wear suits and ties most of the time," Carmen said with a shrug. "The suit and tie doesn't change much from year to year. Dresses do though, and so does everything else that a woman wears. It's a lot to keep up with, even for an immortal man."

"Well," Irina said, selecting a dress to try on, "I know from experience that mortal men can also be remarkably foolish in their choice of gifts. I once had a man give me the head of a panther he'd shot. He'd had it stuffed and mounted, and he presented it to me as though I should be terribly impressed, though I suppose a human woman would be. After centuries of hunting such animals with my bare hands though, a man shooting one with a gun didn't really thrill me."

"But as you said, a human woman would have been thrilled," Esme said. "Or…disgusted."

"Disgust seems to be the more conventional human reaction to being presented with a dead animal, yes," Irina said, laughing.

"I'm going to try this one on," Carmen said, selecting a dress and hurrying off. Esme and Irina, each with their own dresses, followed her to wait their turn. While Carmen was in the fitting room, Irina sat in one of the chairs outside next to Esme, contemplating the dress she was considering.

"That's a lovely color," Irina offered, nodding at the pale blue fabric of the dress Esme held.

Esme shrugged, her smile faint. "I'm not sure if I'll get it. It'll be months before the weather will be suitable for me to wear something so thin, and I've got another like it. Seeing this dress just reminded me of another I used to have, and it brought back fond memories."

Irina tried not to sigh. Poor Esme had been looking depressed the entire trip, as had Carlisle, and everyone knew why. Edward had gone off on his own a few months before, leaving his parents behind to dwell on everything they might have done to stop him from doing so. Tanya had suggested this trip as a means of cheering the Cullens up, but so far, it didn't seem to be working.

"Don't worry," Irina said abruptly. "He'll come back. Edward loves you two as much as you love him. He's just…young, and impetuous, like we all were once. Trust me, he'll be home before you know it."

Esme didn't speak for a moment, and Irina realized that she was trying not to cry. "Thank you, Irina," she said finally, her voice choked with tears.

Irina sighed. "Don't thank me for being insensitive and bringing up something that you're clearly trying not to think about. We just…all of us hate seeing the two of you so unhappy. And I know that Edward's going to be sorry he left, eventually. Then he'll come back, and all of us will take another trip together, only the weather won't be so awful, and you won't feel like weeping all the time."

Esme smiled a little tearfully. "Thanks. You know…I used to be sure that you didn't like me."

Irina snorted with laughter. "Well, that's because I didn't. It wasn't anything personal though. I was just irritated that Carlisle liked you so much more than he liked me. I wasn't jealous," she explained, seeing Esme's slightly worried look. "I never loved him, so don't worry about that. I'm just competitive, that's all. After hundreds of years of men falling in love with me left, right, and center, it bothered me that your husband was immune to my charms. Tanya has the same problem with Edward, but who knows. He might come around one day..."

"I don't know," Esme said, chuckling a little at the memory of Tanya's past advances. "I think Edward sees…saw Tanya as more of a sister."

Irina frowned at Esme's use of the past tense. "Don't you dare go thinking that he isn't ever coming back. We'll drag him home if we have to. Now, I hear Carmen finishing up. Smile, go try on your dress, and if you aren't a bit more cheerful by the time you get back here, I'm going to start making eyes at your husband again."

Esme looked startled for a moment, but then she laughed so hard that a store clerk nearly came over to see what the matter was. Carmen emerged from the dressing room then, and when Esme had taken her place, Irina gave Carmen a meaningful look. Esme was laughing, yes, but anguish was still lurking just beneath the surface of her careful facade.

Now it was Carmen's turn to sigh. "When he finally comes home, that boy's going to get a lecture he'll never forget from me for worrying his poor mother."

"He'll get one from me too," Irina agreed, frowning at the thought of Esme's sorrowful face. They weren't competitors now—they were friends, and what Irina wanted more than anything was for Edward to come home so his parents could stop missing him and feeling guilty about his departure, Esme especially. It was ironic, really, that the only rival for a man's love who had ever bested her should have become a friend. A friend whose sorrow could even make her angry at a boy as handsome as Edward.


	134. Hobby

One more time, Happy Sunday! Just so you know, I'll only be posting two new chapters next week (spring break is over now…) Today's last chapter deals with how Rosalie might have begun to stop hating Carlisle, though she only speaks to him in this chapter because of a birthday gift he gives her. (It was my birthday yesterday, and I'm usually a bit grumpy on my birthday—I just don't like the fact that it's a day where you're supposed to be happy at all times; forced merriment really bugs me—which made me think of Rosalie :)). Thanks as always for your really and truly delightful reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday! Hope you have a great week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 37 days until "The Official Illustrated Guide" is released! :)

_1937_: Hobby

Rosalie's POV

It was Rosalie's birthday, and Esme had decorated the house with her favorite flowers, she and Emmett had each given her several gifts, and Carlisle and Edward, perhaps knowing what would make it the best birthday possible for her, had been gone all day.

"Don't worry, they'll be back by the time it gets dark," was the only explanation Esme offered when Rosalie asked her where they'd gone. Personally, Rosalie didn't really care; it was a lot easier to be cheerful with the two of them out of the house and out of her head, respectively. Rosalie often thought that she might not dislike Edward so much if he didn't know exactly how much she disliked him, but Carlisle…well, Carlisle wasn't someone that Rosalie planned to ever tolerate, let alone cease to dislike. The hatred she felt for him had cooled a great deal in the past two years, but the fact remained that she was much happier when Carlisle wasn't home. Every time she looked at him, she remembered how she'd died, what she'd become, and how she and Emmett could never have the life she'd wanted. The least she could do to Carlisle in return was respond to his patient advances of friendship with sullen silence.

At the moment, they were living way out in the country, in an effort to make resisting the pull of human blood as easy as possible for Emmett, who'd slipped three times since Carlisle had turned him two years before. The problem, Rosalie knew, was that Emmett was very fond of the taste of human blood—he abstained for her sake, and because Carlisle and Esme were glad when he did so, but it was hard for him to resist something that he so clearly enjoyed. He respected human life as an abstract concept, but when he caught the scent of a human, all he could think was how good their blood would taste, and how good it would feel to ease his terrible thirst for a while…so, the current Cullen house was miles from any human habitation, and the new house that Carlisle hoped to purchase for Rosalie and Emmett in the next few weeks would also be in the middle of nowhere. Rosalie didn't mind though—living with Emmett in the middle of nowhere had innumerable benefits.

The sun had set on a mostly cloudy day by the time Rosalie heard the sound of a car approaching. She and Emmett were curled up on the sofa together, listening to the radio, and Esme was sitting by the window, putting the finishing touches on a quilt, when she too heard the car and jumped out of her seat to run to the door. Rosalie raised her eyebrows—the car sounded…strange, not like Carlisle's car at all. And why did she now hear two cars coming toward the house?

"Rosalie," Esme called from the front door. "Would you come here for a moment?"

Rosalie looked at Emmett. "She sounds excited."

Emmett grinned at her. "You think so?"

"Do you know something about this?"

"Go to the door and you'll find out," Emmett said, standing up and offering her his hand. She took it, and he pulled her upright, then covered her eyes with his other hand.

"Oh, is it a surprise now?" she said dryly.

"You'll see," Emmett said playfully, leading her toward the door with his free hand. When they reached the front porch, he released her hand, picked her up, and carried her down the steps, all the while keeping her eyes covered, which made both of them laugh. When he set her down again, Rosalie noted that the two cars she'd heard had stopped a few feet away. What was going on?

"Okay, you can look now!" Esme cried, and Emmett moved his hand.

In front of Rosalie was a 1937 Chevy Coupe. It was a beautiful car, tall and impressive but curving and graceful too. It was the sort of car that almost made her drool when she saw a picture of it in a magazine. And next to the car…was another Chevy Coupe, identical right down to its flawless red paint.

"Carlisle and Edward had to go to the dealership in Boise to pick them," Esme explained. "They're the newest model, right off the assembly line."

"…why are there two?" Rosalie said faintly, staring in wonder at the pair of cherry red cars.

"It's because we know you like to take apart cars, and that your experiments with reassembling them don't always turn out well," Esme explained. Carlisle was standing behind her, holding her hand, but not looking at Rosalie. He was smiling slightly, but that was his only reaction to Rosalie's obvious amazement—by now, he'd learned it was best to let Esme speak for both of them in situations like this. "So, one of these is for you to drive, and the other is for you to take apart and put back together as much as you'd like without having to worry about breaking something."

"Wow," Rosalie breathed.

"My thoughts exactly," Edward murmured, looking admiringly at the beautiful new cars. Rosalie knew she should be annoyed that he seemed a little smug. Obviously he knew how much she liked her gift, but she was still too surprised to pay attention to anything but her wonderful present—_presents_, actually.

"Happy Birthday, Rosalie," Carlisle said quietly.

"…thank you," Rosalie said, still stunned by the gift. In the midst of her shock, she realized that this was the first time she'd spoken to Carlisle voluntarily in two years—the last time she'd said anything to him without Esme having to ask her to had been when she'd asked him to change Emmett. Of course, on some level, Rosalie knew that she should be irritated that he was clearly trying to buy her affection…but when Rosalie considered the matter, she knew that the situation wasn't as simple as that. Carlisle could have showered her with expensive gifts since the day he'd changed her and she wouldn't have hated him any less. But this gift...well, _gifts_, showed that he knew her, knew about what she liked, in spite of all her efforts to distance herself from him. And the way that he'd left it to Esme to present the two cars showed that he didn't expect her opinion of him to change after today—he'd given her these things not because he hoped she'd start to like him because of them, but because he simply wanted her to be happy.

"When you go to work on one of these, can I help?" Emmett said eagerly. "Aside from being gorgeous machines that I can't wait to test drive, with your permission, taking one of these apart sounds like fun."

"Sure, you can help," Rosalie said, smiling at him. "You can be the jack, and I'll be the mechanic." Rosalie liked sharing almost everything with Emmett, but these were _her_ presents, and with them, she was going to enjoy her favorite hobby…even if that very hobby had caused her speak to Carlisle today. She was grateful though, and she was glad she'd thanked him. Now, she might safely go another two years without addressing him civilly.


	135. Surprise

Hi everyone! Before we get to this week's first chapter, I have something ridiculously awesome to share. This past week, my Dad and his girlfriend have been vacationing in and around Seattle—they also drove up to Vancouver (where they did not consent to seek out and stalk anyone in the cast of "Breaking Dawn" on my behalf), and they had a great time eating seafood and enjoying the scenery. A couple of days ago, I got a postcard, which read, and I am quoting it directly here:

"Lisa: Yes we made it to Forks! I bought gifts that you will have soon. Olympic Nat. Forest/Park were spectacular—well worth the vampire vibe. Also saw the ocean at La Push. All very cool. Talk to you soon. Love, Dad"

So, as you might expect, I was freaking out a little—never mind that I'm consumed by envy, my Dad makes fun of "Twilight" at every opportunity, so the fact that in the past year, he's been to Ashland (Wisconsin, where Carlisle turned Esme into a vampire), Seattle, La Push and _Forks_, I'm getting suspicious. He _says_ that he visited all of those places for reasons that have nothing to do with "Twilight"…but now it just seems like too much of a coincidence. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 249 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! So…that's not such a depressingly large number as it was the last time I mentioned how long we still have to wait…it's still a lot of days though…

_1981_: Surprise

Carlisle's POV

It was just after sunrise, and as Carlisle dressed for work, he wondered where Esme had gone. They'd gotten out of bed just a few minutes before, and Carlisle had tried to convince Esme that she should join him in the shower, but with a mysterious expression of amusement, she'd told him that she didn't have time, as there was something she needed to do. Now, as he adjusted his tie, Carlisle noticed a piece of paper folded in half and carefully placed on the bed behind him, so he'd be sure to see it when he looked in the mirror. Carlisle smiled—Esme was clearly up to something.

_Go to your office_, the note said, the words rendered in Esme's delicate, looping script. Grinning to himself now, Carlisle went to his office, where he found another note waiting for him on his desk. Under it, Carlisle noted, was a book about South American art. The second note said, _Go to the kitchen._

"Are you leading me on a tour of the house?" he said playfully, knowing that wherever she was, she could probably hear him. She didn't answer, but Carlisle thought he heard a giggle from somewhere outside the house. Chuckling, Carlisle obediently went downstairs and found two suitcases sitting by the kitchen door. Carlisle glanced at them, grinning, before he turned to open the note that Esme had taped to the wall beside the phone.

_Call the hospital and tell them you're taking a two week vacation_, the note said. _Since you haven't taken one in almost a year, I'm sure they'll understand._

Carlisle smiled. "You're absolutely right," he said, picking up the phone. "It is time for a vacation."

After he'd called the hospital, where a receptionist told him that yes, he was welcome to use some the vacation days he'd accrued, Carlisle took the suitcases outside, where Esme was already waiting for him in the driver's seat of her car, a Chevy convertible that she'd put the top down on. Carlisle loosened the tie he'd straightened just a few minutes before and admired the cloudy day for a moment—they often couldn't risk driving with the top down this time of year—before joining Esme in the car, which was quietly idling in the driveway.

"Surprise!" she said with a grin, "though I suppose it wasn't really much of a surprise—the book on your desk was a rather obvious clue, and I asked you about taking a vacation just last week."

"No, I'm surprised," Carlisle said, removing his tie altogether, "though I was hoping that you might kidnap me like this sometime soon, I didn't know that today would be the day."

"Do you really have time for a trip to the island?" Esme asked, looking momentarily concerned. Carlisle knew that she'd just finished restoring a great quantity of antique furniture, and her latest exhibition at an art gallery was over, so she was ready for a break, but taking time off from the hospital was a more difficult. Carlisle did it so seldom not because he didn't like vacations but because he couldn't understand how humans could do the work that so often exhausted him emotionally when they also had physical exhaustion to contend with. He always wanted to help as many people as possible for as many hours at a time as he could work without attracting attention, but Carlisle had to admit that he'd been feeling a bit worn down lately. After over a century of practicing medicine, he still encountered things that could shake his composure, and that had happened more than he liked to consider lately. Yes, it was doubtless time for him to take a long overdue vacation.

"I always have time," Carlisle said, putting his arm around her. "You just have to remind me to take it—we both have a habit of getting so caught up in our work that suddenly months have passed without our making the time for a trip like this. Thank you for taking care of the packing, by the way—I heard you while I was in the shower, and I had an idea what you were doing, but it seemed like more fun to play along with your surprise. The notes were a nice touch."

Esme shrugged. "I saw a woman do it in a movie once. Thank you for humoring me," she said, leaning over and kissing him.

"Thank you for putting up with a husband who works so much that he's actually surprised at the novel idea of taking a vacation," Carlisle said, kissing her now.

"Between Edward and Alice, it's almost impossible to surprise anyone really," Esme said, rolling her eyes. "I thought that if I waited until you were done at work today to pick you up and go to the airport, one of them might tip you off."

"Just two suitcases though?" Carlisle wondered.

"I only packed a sketchbook this time," Esme explained. "No easel, canvases and paints. And after all, we never need much clothing once we get to the island."

"True," Carlisle said, smiling at the many happy memories he had of their time together on Isle Esme.

"All we need to do now is go to the airport and buy the tickets," Esme said, backing out of the driveway. Carlisle grinned, and silently opened the glove compartment. Esme glanced at what was inside, her eyes widening, and then she started laughing.

"I'd been planning to surprise you with a trip to the island myself," he said with a grin, "but it appears you beat me to it, with the exception of this one small detail."

"All right, it's officially _impossible_ to surprise anyone in this family! Did Alice buy those for you?" Esme demanded, still giggling.

Carlisle nodded. "I knew that I wanted to take a trip with you, and she knew the date we'd be leaving, so she and Jasper took a drive out to the airport last week and bought these for us. I never looked at these tickets until just now though—Alice put them in the glove box for me so, in her words, 'I could at least pretend to be surprised.'"

Esme laughed. "Well, the hospital might be surprised two weeks from now, because according to Alice, a storm might well force us to extend our stay on the island for an extra week."

Carlisle smiled. Though it hadn't exactly been unexpected, this trip was already a pleasant surprise.


	136. Yours

Hi again everyone! Today's second chapter is a fun little scene between Carlisle and Esme set just after the U.S. entered World War II. (I can just imagine Carlisle being frustrated that he couldn't join the army as a medic and Esme being relieved that he couldn't, so he wouldn't be in danger). Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and OMYGOSH, "The Official Illustrated Guide" is only thirty days away!

_1942_: Yours

Esme's POV

They were at the library when Esme noticed the young soldier, his uniform a bit too big for him, watching her from across the reading room. When she met his eyes, the boy immediately blushed furiously and looked back down at the book he was pretending to read, which he was in fact holding upside down. Esme immediately felt a pang of sympathy—ever since last December, boys from all over town had been getting ready to go off to war, and now this one, the son of a woman Esme sometimes saw while she was out shopping, was preparing to depart too. Smiling, and trying to look as nonthreatening as she could, Esme approached the boy at a pace that she hoped mimicked that of a shy human.

"I'm sorry, but your name is Edgar, isn't it? Edgar Marsh?"

Though it hardly seemed possible, the boy turned even redder when he realized that she was talking to him. "Y-yes, ma'am."

"I thought I recognized you!" Esme said warmly. "I see your mother a lot around town. Are you going to be shipping out soon?"

"Yes, ma'am," Edgar said, obviously trying to recover himself, though he was still staring at her, looking a bit transfixed. "I—I leave in two days."

"Are you leaving a girl behind?" Esme asked gently, knowing that the answer was probably no—the poor boy was gangly and awkward, so much so that it was hard to believe that he was really old enough to be in the army.

"N-no, ma'am," Edgar said shyly.

"Well, this is for good luck then," Esme said, and kissed the boy on the cheek, careful not to breathe in as she did so. The sheer proximity of Edgar made her throat burn, but as Esme moved away from the stunned boy, waving to him as she left the reading room, she was gratified to see him smile, though his expression seemed a bit dazed.

Carlisle was waiting for her at the exit, having already checked out the books he wanted. He looked amused, but a little sad too—most of the other doctors he worked with had already enlisted, and practically every time he stepped outside the house, he got sidelong looks from people who obviously wondered why someone so young and healthy hadn't joined some branch of the service. Carlisle didn't mind the looks, but Esme knew that he was worried about all the fragile humans who would soon be in such desperate danger, and frustrated that he couldn't do more to help them.

"Hi," Esme said, taking his arm.

"Was that one of the Marsh boys?" Carlisle asked, and when Esme nodded, he frowned. "Both his older brothers have already enlisted too. He must have had to wait until his eighteenth birthday."

"I hate thinking about all the boys like him, barely more than children, leaving home and maybe never coming back," Esme said with a sigh. "And we can do so little to help..."

"I think you just helped young Marsh a great deal," Carlisle said, smiling easily at her and taking her hand as they strolled down the street toward home. "He's never going to forget that kiss, not if he lives to be a hundred years old. In a few weeks, he'll be somewhere in Europe, telling anyone who'll listen about the beautiful woman who fell madly in love with him at first sight, and who he's going to marry when he gets home. On some level, he'll know it's just a fantasy, and so will his new friends, but talking about that sort of thing will keep them all sane—you'll remind him of the life he had before he went to war. But when he comes home, I'm afraid I must insist that you break things off with him."

Esme chuckled. "Thank you for understanding that kiss in the spirit it was meant. I know you're not the jealous type, but I was worried that you wouldn't exactly appreciate my little stunt just now," she explained. Neither of them mentioned that she hadn't slipped in years—otherwise, Esme never would have risked getting so close to Edgar Marsh.

"Well, I did feel a bit sorry for that boy," Carlisle said gravely. "I've known you for over twenty years now, but you still make me feel a bit tongue-tied sometimes. If you'd come up to me like that, us total strangers, and kissed me, I probably would have had a heart attack, which is saying something for someone with a heart that doesn't beat."

"Oh, don't exaggerate!" Esme said, swatting him playfully with her handbag as he wound an arm around her waist. In response to this attack, Carlisle simply tightened his hold on her, smiling, then leaned close to kiss the top of her head, her ear, her cheek…

An old man sitting on a park bench nearby coughed suddenly, the sound obviously intentional. Esme glanced at the man, about to apologize for disturbing him, but the man was already retreating behind the newspaper he was opening, looking embarrassed and amused in equal measure at the sight of what he clearly thought was an amorous young couple. Carlisle had stopped kissing her, though he kept his arm around her as they continued down the street, and he didn't look the least bit contrite.

"You're scandalizing people, Dr. Cullen," she said, grinning at him while struggling to make her voice disapproving. "A man born in the seventeenth century should know better than to engage in such reckless public displays of affection! Of course, now I'm beginning to believe that I do have a peculiar sort of influence on you."

"You certainly do," Carlisle said, still smiling. "Lucky for me, you're a very good influence. If I were to join the army, even if I were human, and subject to all the diseases and injuries and terrors of war, knowing I had you to come home to would keep me from doing anything too risky. Though I'd certainly be risking heart failure every time I kissed you, if I were human."

"You're exaggerating again," Esme said, squeezing his arm. "You underestimate the strength of the human heart. If you'd tried to kiss me when I was human…well, I'm fairly sure that I wouldn't have died of happiness. Probably."

"It's a shame I didn't then, because I wanted to. But it worried me, hearing how much your pulse accelerated when I touched you. Even then, my heart was yours," Carlisle said quietly, his face as gentle and happy as it always was when he looked at her this way, like he couldn't believe how lucky he was to have her for his wife. After over twenty years, Esme still couldn't believe her luck in having Carlisle as her husband, nor could she understand how he could feel equally fortunate.

Esme smiled, but she also felt a little like crying. She was so grateful to Carlisle for loving her, so amazed that he did, that she could never quite find the words to thank him enough for it, and she knew that if she tried, he would only thank her in return, regardless of the fact that he needn't be the grateful one. So instead, now it was she who stopped him, put her arms around him, and kissed him in the middle of a public street, though it was nearly dark now, and there were no old men on park benches to distract them this time.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice almost reverent when they finally moved away from each other, "by which I mean, my heart is yours too. My heart and the rest of me."

Carlisle grinned. "Let's hurry home then. Much as I love your heart, now I'd like to make a thorough examination of the rest of you."


	137. Leader

Hi everyone! This week's first chapter, inspired by a reader suggestion, is one of those ideas that I really like: Maria visits the Cullens to size up her chances of winning Jasper back for the sake of her army. Thanks as always for your amazing reviews, and look for one more chapter after this!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and here's my plan: I'm only scheduled to work five hours on Tuesdays, so when "The Official Illustrated Guide" comes out on April 12th, I'm going to go to work at 9, take an hour lunch at 12 (and go to Borders a few blocks away to buy the book); then, I can get out at three and have the rest of the day to read. Only 23 more days…

_1966_: Leader

Jasper's POV

"Maria's coming to visit you," Alice had announced calmly one day a few months after the Cullens had settled in a large house in Nevada. Jasper had never lived so close to Maria after leaving her army years before, and though he'd been a bit uneasy at the thought of seeing her, it had seemed unlikely that she would take the trouble to track him down again. The last time she'd come to see him, the family had been living in Calgary, and that meeting had ended, or rather begun, in disaster.

Maria, not knowing that Jasper was learning to live without human blood, had hunted rather conspicuously in the area before approaching the Cullens' house. She'd even brought a half-drained corpse with her as a sort of house-warming gift, her argument being that the outskirts of Calgary were remote enough that it would be a simple matter to cover up her killings. Naturally, the Cullens had relocated immediately after disposing of the evidence of Maria's hunting activities. Jasper shuddered at the very thought of a repeat of that episode here in Nevada.

Carlisle's new job was only temporary—it would be over in less than a year, and for the time being, everyone else had been enjoying the novelty of living like real vampires for a change. By day, they mostly stayed inside—Carlisle left for work every day before the sun rose—and by night, Jasper had been taking night classes with the others at the nearby college. It was oddly soothing to return to the south with his new family, maybe because it seemed to be proof that he had really changed—that his old life with Maria was really gone for good. But now she was coming to see him, just to say hello, according to Alice, since he was living so close by, and Jasper couldn't help but wonder what, if anything, he should do to prepare to see the woman he'd once fought and killed for unquestioningly, the woman he'd once thought he loved.

"How does she even know where I am?" he'd asked curiously. "After that mess in Calgary, I was hoping she'd avoid us for a few decades."

"Peter and Charlotte told a friend of theirs your current address, that friend told another friend, and last week, Maria made up her mind to run up here and see us, since this is likely as close as we'll ever get to her territory. By now she understands that vampires like us prefer living further north, where we can find more animals to hunt, and where there are fewer sunny days to worry about."

Jasper had nodded. He wasn't really interested in how she'd found him—all that mattered now was what the consequences of her appearing before the Cullens again might be. Alice said she would come alone, but what if she brought others? Was this really going to be a meeting of old friends, or would Maria try to pick a fight if she thought doing so might win him back?

When he and Alice had warned Carlisle about the impending visit, he'd seemed more concerned for the safety of the humans in the area than for his own.

"You're my coven leader now," Jasper had pointed out gently. "I'm a little concerned that she might see you as a rival. This visit could really be a scouting mission—last time, we left too quickly for her to try to put any plans into action. This time, she may be looking for some pretext to attack us."

"Jazz, I really don't see her doing anything like that," Alice said gently. "Trust me. You'll see what she wants when she gets here."

Jasper didn't look at Maria while he introduced her to the Cullens, but he was intensely focused on her reactions to each member of his family; she hadn't had the leisure to really assess the Cullens the last time she'd visited, but this time, she was determined to take their measure. Esme, who greeted Maria with her usual warmth, was received with a smile, but Jasper could feel Maria dismiss Esme as someone who didn't pose any threat to her safety. Such a kind, gentle vampire was clearly hardly a vampire at all in Maria's eyes. Her reaction to Carlisle was similar, but more conflicted. She clearly wanted to dismiss him as some kind of harmless lunatic, a vampire that refused to kill humans, but the fact that he was the leader of a powerful coven full of talented immortals forced her to treat him with a sort of grudging respect.

Emmett and Rosalie were a different story. When Maria looked at them, Jasper could feel that Maria deemed them both decent fighters, but she was confused that two such immortals should choose to live the life they did. Emmett in particular wasn't someone who Maria thought could have anything in common with a creature as soft as Esme—his size alone would have made him the second in command in any other coven, but here, he was simply a brother and a son. Jasper could sense Maria's inability to understand how Emmett could be happy in what she saw as such a menial position.

Maria was particularly impressed with Alice and Edward—initially, Jasper had feared that Maria might attempt to attack Alice, given the fact that Jasper's feelings for her had so completely eclipsed everything he'd once felt for Maria, but Maria was not, apparently, prone to petty jealousy when it came to immortals who could help her expand her territory. She even seemed to like Alice, as much as Maria was capable of liking anyone who wasn't willing to fight for her. Edward, who could of course hear exactly what she was thinking, greeted her with thinly veiled dislike, and Jasper decided that feeling what Maria felt was bad enough—hearing her specific thoughts would mostly likely have bothered him more than he would have been able to conceal.

"It's very nice to meet all of you, and I'm sorry again for the trouble I caused you last time I came to see Jasper," Maria said pleasantly when Jasper had introduced everyone. "I'm glad to see my old friend so happy in his new home."

It was not a long visit—Carlisle and Esme showed her around the house, and Maria told everyone a bit about her territory, though she didn't give details about her hunting activities—her red eyes made doing so unnecessary. Everyone parted cordially after just a few hours of conversation, mostly on neutral topics such as the state of the human world and the weather. Maria was unfailingly friendly to everyone, especially Alice, though Jasper could sense the coolness that both women carefully concealed. Maria, for her part, felt irritated, probably because she could see that she'd lost Jasper irrevocably. Alice, on the other hand, didn't like Maria simply because she represented a part of Jasper's life that Alice knew he regretted.

When Maria prepared to leave, she couldn't seem to resist one last look at Edward, and Jasper could feel her longing for a mind reader to join her coven. She seemed able to sense Edward's distaste for her way of life, however, so she departed without trying to recruit him. Jasper gave Carlisle and Esme what he hoped was a reassuring look when he left with Maria to conduct her to the edge of the property. Alice, of course, didn't look concerned—she knew he was coming back.

"Your family is very…interesting," Maria said as they walked down the driveway. Her tone was amused, but he could sense her confusion.

Jasper nodded. "I'm very happy with them. It's difficult, trying to live this way, but I think it's worth it."

"Hmm," Maria said noncommittally.

"Why did you come here, Maria?" Jasper asked, finally too exasperated to keep the question to himself any longer. "What was your real reason, because I know you never make purely social calls."

"I was curious," Maria said simply, "about your new life. I heard about how you were living with your mate, I saw evidence of it in Calgary, but I wanted to see if it was true. It seemed impossible that our kind could really live this way. But now that I've seen your eyes, I suppose that I'll have to accept the strange rumors about your new diet, and the fact that you're sticking to it. And it was Alice who led you to the Cullens?"

Jasper nodded, slightly relieved by feeling curiosity, not malice, still coming from Maria. "She saw us joining them, and now, here we are. It's been a bit difficult for me to change my hunting habits, but I'm slowly getting used to it, and Alice is an expert at abstaining from human blood by now. Without her, I think it would be impossible, but Alice…well, she makes anything possible. We're very happy."

"I'm impressed by your new coven's leader," Maria said, abruptly changing the subject.

Jasper smiled slightly. It seemed that Maria was not completely immune to jealousy. "Yes, Carlisle's certainly unique. A vampire who's never killed a human…it still amazes me, even after years of knowing him."

"He and his wife though…" Maria trailed off darkly.

"What about them?" Jasper wondered.

"They are too close," Maria said simply. When it was clear that Jasper didn't understand what she meant, she gave him a meaningful look. "I loved you, Jasper, and you loved me, but not the way that Carlisle loves his wife—not the way you love Alice. The love we had…it was safer. My love for you never compromised my ability to lead our coven. Could you count on Carlisle if your coven was ever attacked?"

"Yes," Jasper said immediately, "because he cares about all of us."

Maria shook her head. "That's even worse. He would be pulled in six directions at once if your coven was ever threatened. Caring too much about individuals hurts the coven as a whole."

"In your coven, that's true," Jasper said, his voice cold now. "In mine, no one is disposable. No one is discarded when they've outlived their usefulness, because we're all useful—not for winning territory, but for…ourselves, because we're a family."

Maria smiled indulgently. "You have a _family_ now, Jasper? That's hard to believe, you know. The idea of our kind having families."

"I know," Jasper said, smiling reluctantly. "If not for Alice, I never would have found the Cullens. To the rest of our kind, I think we must seem rather silly."

Maria didn't disagree. "I couldn't quite believe it when I first heard…but now that I've seen it, I suppose I can understand. And it is…impressive, in its own way. A coven leader must have strength and vision to lead, and Carlisle certainly has that. I'm just surprised you would choose to follow him."

Jasper shrugged. "At first, I was only following Alice. But now I would follow Carlisle no matter what, because I care about all of them. Silly or not, the Cullens are my family now."

Maria was silent for a moment. "I was going to ask you to come back with me, and to bring Alice, if you wanted," she said, stopping at the end of the driveway. "But that wouldn't do any good, would it?"

"No," Jasper said, without feeling the least bit of hesitation or doubt. "I can't live the way you do anymore, Maria."

"I know," Maria said quietly. "But I had to try. Goodbye, Jasper."

"Goodbye, Maria," Jasper said, and he watched her head south, back toward her territory, with a feeling of relief rather than regret. When she was out of sight, he turned toward home, toward Alice, and the rest of his family. Once, Maria had been a leader he would have followed anywhere, but now, Jasper was more than content to follow a man who asked nothing of him but to try and live without killing humans. Carlisle was a better leader than Maria could ever be, and yet he had none of her hubris. Of course, that was precisely why he was the better leader.


	138. Stories

Hi again everyone! This chapter is another reader request, in the sense that people have asked for more stories about Carlisle and Esme in their role as grandparents. :) As always, I can't thank you enough for your wonderful reviews, and I hope you had a great weekend! See you again next Sunday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 242 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1…yeah, it's still a long way away…

_2007_: Stories

Nessie's POV

It wasn't very late yet, but Nessie had been going to bed early lately, because mama and papa, grandma and grandpa and everyone else had been taking turns telling her bedtime stories. She'd already read every book that mama and papa were comfortable giving to a one year old, but hearing stories about her family members was better anyone. Tonight, grandma and grandpa were telling her stories, and grandpa was telling her about the time he met Jane Austen.

"I was invited to a party by a friend of mine just after I returned to England for a visit after years of living in America," grandpa explained.

"A human friend?" Nessie wondered.

"Yes, though I guess we were more acquaintances than friends," grandpa said. "We met in a book shop in London, when he noticed me holding the very book he was interested in. His name was Stephen Hammond, and he was a young man who had just left Oxford. We got to talking, and when I told him about living in Italy and other parts of Europe before going to America, he wanted to hear all about that, and since he assumed from how I was dressed and the way I spoke that I was at least as respectable as he was, he invited me to come with him to Bath for the weekend, where he planned to attend a party that his aunt was holding there. Jane Austen and part of her family were living there then, and I was introduced to her at that party."

"What year was it?" Nessie wondered. The first year of her life had been so eventful that it seemed amazing to her that anyone could be as old as grandpa—to Nessie, it seemed like it must be exhausting to have experienced so much.

"1804," grandpa said. "After that weekend, I never saw Stephen again, but I think I was able to give him some good tips about traveling on the continent, though they may have been a little outdated. I left England and went back to America later that year."

"What was Jane Austen like?" Nessie wondered. "Mama loves her books, but I don't always understand them. She makes humans sound so strange and silly."

"Humans _can_ be very strange and silly, just like us," grandma pointed out, and grandpa laughed.

"That's true. And in Bath, when I met Ms. Austen at that party, there were lots of silly people there. Bath was a place where people came specifically to talk to other people, and show off how fashionable they were. In a place like that, it's natural to meet a lot of eccentrics. I didn't speak to Ms. Austen for very long, but she struck me as a very observant young woman. A bit like your mother, but not quite as shy."

"Is mama shy?" Nessie wondered. She'd never thought of her mother that way, but of course, mama was never shy with her.

"Maybe not so much anymore," grandma said thoughtfully. "Grandpa has a point though. When your mama was human, she was pretty shy. She blushed a lot, so you could always tell when she was embarrassed."

Nessie laughed. "I think mama still blushes sometimes. You can't see it, but her face looks funny when Aunt Alice teases her."

Grandma and grandpa laughed. "I think you're right, Nessie," grandpa said, smiling.

"Can I hear another story?" Nessie asked. "Grandma, will you tell me how you and grandpa met?"

"Oh, that's an entertaining story," grandma said, laughing, and grandpa grinned at her. "Though I think it embarrasses grandpa a little."

"Why?" Nessie asked.

"Well, when your grandpa and I met, I was sixteen, and I was at the hospital because I'd fallen out of a tree and broken my leg," grandma explained. "And as soon as I saw your grandpa, I was half in love with him, but I was almost embarrassed to speak to him at all."

"And I was all of a sudden a little in love with grandma too," grandpa said, "but I felt too bad about feeling that way to say anything."

"Why did you feel bad?" Nessie wondered, mystified.

"Well," grandpa said thoughtfully, "your grandma wasn't grown up yet. She was just sixteen, and she looked even younger. To someone as old as me, she might as well have been a child. It would have been bad enough if I'd been a human doctor who was twenty-three and in love with a sixteen year old. But being hundreds of years older than grandma instead of just a few years older made it seem worse somehow. Besides, I had to fix her broken leg. I didn't have time to be in love with her just then."

Nessie laughed. "So what happened next?"

"Well, we were both sort of shy, but eventually we managed to start talking, and then

grandpa fixed my leg," grandma said simply.

"Did it hurt?" Nessie asked.

"Yes, but only a little bit, because grandpa was so careful," grandma said, smiling at him. "He moved very fast, faster than a human doctor could, so my leg only really hurt for the moment it took to set the bone. Then he put a cast on my leg, we talked a bit more…and grandpa left. Then I went home with my parents a few hours later."

"That's it?" Nessie said incredulously. "And you didn't see each other for ten years after that?"

"No, but I thought about your grandpa a lot," grandma said.

"And I thought about grandma a lot too, though I tried not to after I changed your father," grandpa said, taking grandma's hand. "He thought it was strange, once grandma and I met again, that I was in love with someone I barely knew, who I hadn't seen in years."

"And after grandpa changed me, your poor father could tell exactly how much we loved each other," grandma said, smiling at the memory. "But I asked your father not to tell grandpa how I felt, and grandpa asked your father not to tell me how he felt, so…it took a little while before we were able to tell each other the truth."

"Why?" Nessie asked, looking at grandma and grandpa in amazement. "Couldn't you tell how grandpa felt even without papa telling you?"

"No," grandma said, laughing. "I couldn't imagine that grandpa could be in love with me. I thought that was impossible."

"And I thought the same thing," grandpa said, shaking his head.

"But _why_?" Nessie insisted. "I don't understand."

"I think that sometimes when people are in love, all they can think about is how much they love the other person, and how far away that person can seem" grandma said thoughtfully. "I remember thinking how wonderful grandpa was, and how he could only marry someone as wonderful as he was. I didn't think that I could be that person."

"Likewise," grandpa said. "When you're in love, you think you see whoever you're in love with perfectly, but you don't always see yourself very well."

"Okay," Nessie said skeptically. "But eventually, you decided to get married. Was dad happy when you told him about it?"

"Edward was…relieved," grandma said, smiling at grandpa. "He was starting to get impatient."

"And we didn't exactly tell your dad," grandpa said, grinning. "Actually, he found out because grandma destroyed part of the roof after I asked her to marry me."

"Carlisle!" grandma said, smacking grandpa lightly on the shoulder. "I was _planning_ to leave out that part of the story!"

"But that's one of my favorite parts," grandpa said, smiling unrepentantly.

"Why did you destroy part of the roof, grandma?" Nessie wondered.

"That," grandma said firmly, rolling her eyes at grandpa, "is a story for another night."


	139. Courtship

Hi everyone! Maybe I'm belaboring the point, but let me just tell you one more time how good it is to be able to update again. (Honestly, I'm more than a little addicted to all your wonderful reviews :)). And for those of you who mentioned it, you're absolutely right about Edward noting in "Midnight Sun" that a visit from Maria while the Cullens lived in Calgary didn't end well…ahh, I can't wait to get the guide! Then I can look up stuff like this when I have a question about something. Oh well, only 15 more days…:)

Since someone asked, here's how you can still update in spite of the current problem with the site: when you go to update a story, click on the title of your story the way you usually would. You'll get the same infuriating error message as usual, but don't look at the message this time—look at the address. For some reason, I can't type it out here (every time I save, it just gets deleted), but you'll see the name of the site (it won't let me type it, I don't know why!), and then some other stuff after it, including story_edit_property, and then still more stuff after that identifying your particular story. See where it says 'property'? Change 'property' to 'content.' Then hit enter, and you'll be able to update. :)

Today's first chapter is a fun one about Carlisle and Esme going to a movie, and the movie that they see is, I assure you, both very real and very bad. But it's so bad that it's really funny, so I imagine that Carlisle and Esme might enjoy it for the same reason I do; it was actually released in 1975 too, which is why I picked this particular bad movie for this chapter. :) Thank you so much for your reviews, and slight change of plans: I have to get up early tomorrow for a networking fair, so I'm going to post just one chapter tonight and then another tomorrow. See you then! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and as I said before, ONLY 15 MORE DAYS UNTIL "THE OFFICIAL ILLUSTRATED GUIDE"! :)

_1975_: Courtship

Esme's POV

About ten minutes into the movie, Esme glanced at Carlisle and discovered that he too was trying his best not to laugh at what was going on up on the screen. Soon, neither of them could stifle themselves any longer, and Esme was relieved to see that they weren't the only ones snickering. When Esme glanced around at the rest of the audience, she found that the only people who weren't making fun of the ridiculously bad special effects and silly plot were the couples kissing.

"This is such a bad movie," Esme giggled.

"We could follow our neighbors' example and just kiss for a while," Carlisle murmured. He already had his arm around her, and just as he was pulling her toward him, both of them paused to watch a man scream, pretending to be devoured by what was supposed to be a giant spider from parallel universe. They both laughed, and then, like the other couples in the theater, they kissed for awhile, pausing only occasionally to see which other forgettable characters in the film had been eaten by spiders.

When they left the theater, Esme glanced back at the brightly lit marquee above them, which read "The Giant Spider Invasion." It was a chilly November evening, and they had both wanted to see a movie when Carlisle got home from work. This had been the only movie playing however, so they'd gone, in spite of the less than encouraging title.

"At least we weren't surprised that it was awful," Carlisle pointed out. "And really, it was so bad that it was actually hilarious."

Esme giggled. "If only they'd marketed this as a comedy instead of a horror movie. You know, I used to worry about seeing fake blood in movies, but this time…well, the blood was as fake as everything else, so it didn't bother me. I felt sorry for the kids in the audience more than the victims of the spiders, really."

"How do you mean?" Carlisle wondered. "I think everyone felt like they got their money's worth, or at least the people who came with dates did. If a movie's too good, neither of us want to spend half the movie kissing. But if a movie's bad, it's the perfect excuse for us to entertain ourselves in other ways."

Esme smiled. "True. But remember when "Casablanca" first came out and we went and saw that? It was a wonderfully romantic movie—not that I ever wanted us to be like Ilsa and Sam, but you get the idea."

"Are you honestly suggesting that giant spiders from another dimension aren't romantic?" Carlisle said, pretending to look shocked at the idea.

Esme laughed. "Far be it from me to suggest _that_."

"And this movie was filmed in Wisconsin too," Carlisle pointed out. "We've done plenty of romantic things while living in Wisconsin."

"But imagine a young couple going to this movie for their first date. What if they get married someday, and people ask them how they met?"

Carlisle chuckled. "I guess I'm glad that our first date didn't involve an awful horror movie." He paused for a moment. "Technically though, what was our first date? I always think of the day we met as our first date, though I use the term 'date' very loosely there."

Esme smiled. "I think of that day too, but I guess meeting in a hospital after I broke my leg _is _a rather odd first date."

"I suppose most first dates are a bit strange when you really think about them," Carlisle said, putting his arm around her. "For humans, but for our kind especially—how could I have known when I went to work one morning sixty-four years ago that I was going to meet the love of my life? And what if I'd stayed home that day, and I'd missed meeting you? At the time, it seemed like such a small thing to go to work, but it turned out to be one of the most important days of my life."

Esme smiled. "Of mine too. Falling in love was the last thing on my mind that day, or at least, it was as far as it could be from the thoughts of a sixteen-year-old girl. I didn't want to get married when I met you, but I remember that my friends and I used to talk about what our future husbands were going to be like constantly. Before meeting you, I changed my mind every other week about my imaginary husband, but afterwards…well, let's just say my friends got suspicious when my descriptions of the kind of man I wanted to marry started to sound a little too specific."

Carlisle chuckled. "You left quite an impression on me too, you know. I'd almost never thought about marriage before meeting you, or at least, I didn't really dare to hope that I'd ever meet someone I'd want to marry, and who would want to marry me. But after that, I started to be a bit preoccupied with the idea. I visited the Denalis a few months after I met you, and they were very excited when I admitted that I'd been thinking about marriage."

Esme rolled her eyes. "I'm sure they were. And yet you never wanted to marry any of them. Weren't they all a bit puzzled by your indifference to their charms?"

Carlisle looked thoughtful. "I think that for all their flirting, on both sides, we've always felt more like siblings or cousins than anything else. Really, I think the difference in our ages has always affected how we feel about each other."

Esme laughed. "The difference in your _ages_? But you're hundreds of years older than I am in one sense, and I'm three years older than you another. Age has never been a problem for us."

Carlisle shrugged, his expression amused. "Very true. But with Tanya, Kate, and Irina, as well as they've kept up with the times, I can never speak to any of them without being conscious of how very old they are. They don't brag about their age, or even mention it hardly, and yet the fact remains that they grew up in a world that was so different from ours that I can barely imagine it. I've always been fascinated by their history, and I think they know that. Those three, when they do find mates, will want men who look at them as individuals, not someone like me, who looks at them and wonders where they were when the Magna Carta was signed."

Esme laughed. "And where were they when the Magna Carta was signed?"

Carlisle grinned."Still in Russia, according to Tanya. She was involved with the son of a nobleman briefly before she and her sisters decided to leave the country for a while and explore the rest of Europe."

"It's hard for me to imagine what courtship must have been like when they were young and human," Esme mused. "Thinking about it does make me interested in studying more Russian history."

Carlisle chuckled grimly. "I'm not sure that there was much romance involved in courtships nine hundred years ago. There were probably fewer chaperoned strolls, and more discussions of dowries."

"True," Esme agreed. "But at least we can be fairly certain that giant spiders weren't involved."

They walked home, still laughing about the movie, and both of them happy, Esme was sure, that their own courtship had gotten off to the memorable start it had in that Columbus hospital so many years ago.


	140. Encounter

Hi again! Today's second chapter was inspired by Jacob's mentioning in "Twilight" that the Quileutes encountered Carlisle before Europeans came to Washington, so this chapter is how I imagine that first meeting with the tribe might have come about, and how Carlisle might have reacted when he realized that the Quileutes knew what he was. Thank you so much for your great reviews, and now that I know how to update again, I think I can safely say that I'll see you again next Sunday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 235 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1. (That's…still a long way away. But it's a week closer this week than it was last week. )

_1726_: Encounter

Carlisle's POV

It had been days now, and Carlisle was still running, still thrilled by the sheer size of America. He'd been living in New York ever since he'd gotten off the ship that had taken him across the Atlantic, but after over a year of living there, the urge to explore what lay beyond the regions inhabited European settlers had gotten the better of him. He'd left New York as quietly as possible, after suggesting to acquaintances that he might go to work in Philadelphia for a while, and then he'd set off to see more of the wilderness that he'd been reading about for decades.

He brought nothing with him but a few books and some clothing. He traveled mostly at night, and during the day he would find some shady spot to stop and wait for darkness. He didn't read the books he'd brought, because there was simply too much else to see. And when it rained, he could run all day through some of the most beautiful country he'd ever seen. Europe was beautiful, certainly, but it amazed Carlisle how much America changed the further west you traveled. For a long time, there were vast forests that grew over rolling hills. Then there were plains, after that, more great hills that slowly gave way to great mountains. And it was so…quiet.

Carlisle knew that there were humans living all over America, and he was careful to avoid all scents and signs indicating human life that he encountered. But when compared with the great expanse of the country, there seemed to be almost no people at all, and it was easy to skirt the few human habitations while he ran. Europe was so crowded by comparison, and afforded so little natural beauty on the scale of his new country. The variety of prey was wonderful too, and Carlisle enjoyed hunting more than he had in years. In a few days time, he encountered dozens of creatures he'd never seen before, and he sampled the blood of many of them: the wildcat he caught was especially tasty

Early one cloudy morning, Carlisle came to the end of America. He stood at the top of a cliff, looking down at the ocean, and marveled at the sight of the Pacific Ocean. Even under the thick layer of monotonous gray clouds, Carlisle could see the beautiful way the water moved, the currents and the impressive waves the crashed into shore and receded as the tide slowly went out. Just seeing this was well worth the trip, and Carlisle had taken note of how cloudy it was in the part of the country; he wondered if the overcast skies were constant, or only a seasonal phenomenon. Because if it were usually this cloudy, he might like to settle here sometime—a place with few sunny days would be perfect for a vampire who'd grown weary of either working nights or having to miss work every time the sky was clear.

As he moved south and prepared to turn east, Carlisle discovered a trace of human life: in the distance, he could see smoke rising over the trees. The smell of humans was close now too, and though the humans in question were probably miles away, Carlisle turned to take a different route, away from the smells and faint sounds he heard now. Then he stopped and listened—a human heartbeat was close by. Carlisle began to move quickly and quietly into a deeper part of the forest. It was dark here, and he wouldn't be seen even if a human passed within feet of him, but moving the way he had took him closer to the heartbeat, a child's he guessed, which was now only a few yards away. The sound of running water from the nearby river would conceal the sound of his movement however, and Carlisle prepared to run.

Suddenly, Carlisle heard a panicked cry, and turned just in time to see the little girl whose heartbeat he'd heard slip off a rock and fall into the river she'd apparently been perched beside. When Carlisle ran to the spot she'd fallen from, he saw that the little girl was already far away, swept off toward the ocean by strong rapids.

Carlisle cursed quietly before jumping into the water after the child—this was exactly the kind of thing he'd been trying to avoid as he'd crossed the country, and for thousands of miles, he'd succeeded in having no contact with humans. Now, when the end of his journey west was so close, he would have to get close to a human.

The little girl could apparently swim well enough—it was just the strength of the current that was giving her trouble. As soon as Carlisle caught her and began to pull her back toward the shore, the girl said something to him in what seemed to be a friendly tone—maybe she was thanking him? But then she turned and looked at him, and instantly, the girl's eyes went wide with terror.

Carlisle wasn't surprised at this reaction—he'd read of some of the expeditions that had been made into America's interior, in which most writers had made it sound that the native peoples of the country were invariably happy to meet the Europeans who came to explore their lands. But Carlisle was certain that though there was curiosity on both sides, there was also fear and mistrust. Perhaps the little girl in his arms had heard stories about dangerous white men like the ones that children in New York were told about dangerous savages who killed children for sport. When they got to shore, Carlisle set the little girl down on the grass and then sat apart for her, giving her the chance to flee. But she seemed too shocked to move, let alone run away.

"Are you all right?" he asked gently, watching her. She had a few scrapes, but she didn't seem to be otherwise hurt. She was wearing clothes made from the hide of an animal, _probably deer_, Carlisle guessed,_ judging by the scent._

The little girl simply stared at him. She sat looking at him, her terror slowly turning to confusion. She said something to him hesitantly.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," he said quietly, smiling at her ruefully. Of course he could talk to her, and she could talk to him, but neither of them would have any idea what the other was saying. The girl, who looked to be about nine or ten, frowned at him, then glanced down at her hand, which had a long, but apparently shallow cut in it. Blood was slowly beginning to seep from the wound, and as Carlisle watched, the child met his eyes again, looking fearful.

"Are you afraid of blood?" he asked, puzzled. From his pocket, he withdrew a soaked handkerchief and offered it to the girl, who stared at him, looking completely baffled.

The girl spoke again, pointing to her hand. She watched Carlisle in what looked to be amazement as he crouched beside her, tied the handkerchief around the cut, and then sat back down.

"Better?" Carlisle asked gently.

The little girl stared at him a moment longer, and then she got to her feet slowly. She wasn't moving as if she were in pain though; she seemed to be trying not to make any sudden movements, as though he were a wild animal she had to keep from provoking. Carlisle watched, still puzzled, as she backed up a few steps, then stopped to stare at him again.

Just then, a man came hurrying through the thick foliage, saw the girl, and shouted something to her. The girl ran to meet the man, who immediately leaned down to examine her, glancing at Carlisle suspiciously when the little girl began to speak. When he saw the small scrapes she'd gotten in the course of her tumble into the river, his eyes narrowed. He looked almost as fearful as the girl had when she had first taken a good look at Carlisle, but then the man seemed to square his shoulders, and ever so slightly, his body shuddered.

Carlisle rose slowly, at a human pace, when he inhaled and caught a strange scent on the wind. It was…unpleasant. It made him edgy, almost fearful. It was intensely strange, but Carlisle was suddenly certain that the man, just a human, and a few inches shorter than he was even, was dangerous. Not to the girl, but to him. _What could that smell be?_ he wondered. _And what instinct is telling me that I need to get away from here?_

As the man stared at him, Carlisle could hear the little girl still saying something. She seemed to be gesturing from him to her bandaged hand. The man's body had stopped shuddering by now, but he'd positioned himself so that he was standing slightly in front of the girl now, shielding her, and he was glaring at Carlisle. Obviously, the little girl had told this man, her father or brother perhaps, that she'd been pulled out of the river by the strange man with pale skin. Pale…and cold.

A sudden thrill of understanding shot through Carlisle: it wasn't simply the strangeness his color that had frightened the little girl. It was his paleness, the chill of his skin when he'd caught hold of her, and the unusual color of his eyes. She knew what he was, or at least, she knew what a vampire was, and that he resembled one.

The expression of the man standing beside the little girl seemed to confirm Carlisle's theory. He looked angry and fearful, but also confused. The little girl was still pointing at the handkerchief around her hand, speaking to the man quickly, and his look of confusion deepened as he listened. His eyes never left Carlisle's though, and Carlisle knew exactly what the man was looking for: blood red irises instead of golden ones.

_She was bleeding, and they're surprised I didn't react the way they'd expect a vampire to react around blood_, Carlisle thought, amazed. These people had encountered vampires before, they knew what they looked like, and that they were far from the stuff of legends. But if these humans were aware of the existence of immortals, how could they still be alive? Why hadn't whatever vampire the tribe had encountered before killed everyone who'd seen him or her so the story couldn't spread?

Carlisle shook his head; how it had happened didn't matter. These people knew about vampires, and that knowledge would put their lives at risk for as long as they lived. He needed to leave, now, before their knowledge of immortals could increase, thus further endangering them.

The man said something to him then, his voice both wary and stern.

Carlisle inclined his head slightly at the man and the little girl. Then he turned and ran due east, wondering what, if anything, this encounter might lead to if he ever came back to this part of the country.


	141. Danger

Hi everyone! Since I'm going to be finishing graduate school in about two weeks, I'm a little swamped with projects and papers at the moment, so I only have one chapter for you this week. Sorry about that, but next week, everything should be pretty much done, so I'll be able to post the usual two chapters. :)

This week's chapter takes place during "Twilight," when Edward and Emmett are away hunting. While Bella sits in the cafeteria worrying about where Edward's gone, she notices Alice, Rosalie and Jasper sitting on the other side of the cafeteria, talking. So, here's how I imagine that that conversation might have gone, and how Alice and the others might have compared Edward's relationship with Bella to the fact that Carlisle was determined to avoid starting a relationship with Esme when she was human. (Since this takes place before the Cullens find out about half-immortals, Alice just assumes that if Carlisle and Esme had married when Esme was sixteen, they couldn't have had children—when we get closer to "Breaking Dawn" Part 1, I'm definitely going to do some chapters in which Esme and the others deal with Bella's pregnancy—you guys have some great suggestions for "Breaking Dawn" stories too, and I can't wait to get to those as well :)). Thanks as always for your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and OHMYGOSH, ONLY 7 MORE DAYS UNTIL "THE OFFICIAL ILLUSTRATED GUIDE"! :)

_2005_: Danger

Alice's POV

On the other side of the cafeteria, Bella Swan was sitting with her human friends, looking unhappy and preoccupied, and Alice was glancing at her from time to time, trying to see what the future held for her. She still saw that they would be friends, but Alice knew that she was going to have to wait a little while longer. Edward had some decisions to make before Alice could start to get to know Bella, and though she was impatient to actually meet her new friend, in the meantime, she still had to convince Rosalie and Jasper that the girl didn't pose a threat to them.

"This is ridiculous," Rosalie muttered furiously, her lips barely moving. "She's sitting right there! It would be easy for one of us to lure her outside—I could say that Edward wanted to tell her something, then we could go outside, I could tell her he was waiting in the forest, then—"

"Don't, Rose," Alice said irritably, as the possibility of that unpleasant future flashed through her head. "I thought we'd settled this."

"You and Carlisle and Esme have settled this," Rosalie said stubbornly. "The rest of us still have some misgivings about Edward's new little friend."

"Jasper," Alice said, looking at him intently. "You know I'm telling the truth about this, and you can sense that Bella isn't feeling an urge to confide in anyone. You can sense how she already feels about Edward too, can't you? She's not going to say anything incriminating about us."

"I think that's true, for now," Jasper said gently, his voice and expression clearly indicating his reluctance to discuss his true opinion of the situation with Bella Swan. "But we can't be sure how she'll feel tomorrow, and I can't know what she feels when she isn't at school. And since Edward can't even read her mind…Alice, I know you don't want to hear it, but she has the potential to be very dangerous to us."

"Of course she does," Alice said calmly, "but like I keep saying, she's not going to be. She trusts Edward, and I don't see her exposing him to other humans. People would think she was crazy if she even tried, after all."

Rosalie snorted. "So we're going to trust some silly human to keep our secrets just because she trusts Edward? Alice, I know you want to be friends with her, but this is the most foolish thing that Edward's ever done! You can pretend otherwise if you want to, but I can't. Regardless of what you see for her future, I still think that it would be in everyone's best interest if we just killed her already."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Everyone but Bella's, obviously."

"Think about it!" Rosalie hissed furiously. "She's _human_! Even if Edward does decide that he's in love with her, what will he do then? Will he make her one of us? He doesn't want to kill her himself, so obviously he doesn't want to change her, but then what? Is he honestly going to spend the next seventy or eighty years following Bella Swan around, always treating her like she's made of glass and knowing that he's keeping her from having a real human life? And then what will he do when she dies? It's insane!"

"I don't _know_ what's going to happen with Bella, Rose," Alice said, exasperated. "That's for her and Edward to decide."

"You can't deny that it's dangerous, Alice," Jasper said quietly. "This…not knowing. And this has really never happened to Edward before?" He looked at Rosalie when he asked this question.

"No," Rosalie said grimly. "He's never encountered anyone whose mind he couldn't read. I guess some people's thoughts are clearer than others, but he's never been completely unable to hear anything from a given person." Then she smiled wickedly. "Maybe there's just really nothing going on in there—she's obviously none too bright if she's not avoiding Edward."

"Rose," Alice groaned, "enough! I don't see Bella going anywhere anytime soon, so you might as well just get used to her. And I mean it, Jasper—I'm going to be really upset if you do anything to her."

"I promise not to then," Jasper said quietly, laying his hand on hers, but he still looked unhappy. "But you know I don't like this, and that I'm going to be keeping an eye on her."

"Duly noted," Alice said, squeezing his hand. "Rose?"

Rose snarled quietly, too quietly for any of the humans around them to hear. "I can't _believe_ Carlisle and Esme are just going along with this! When Carlisle met Esme, he had the sense to stay away from her!"

"And look how well that turned out," Alice said sadly. "He stayed away, and now they'll both always have regrets about Esme's human life."

Rosalie glared at Alice. "True. But Carlisle was right in principal, and we all know it. He left Esme because he wanted her to be able to live her life the way she was supposed to. If he'd changed her back then, she would have always wondered what she'd missed out on—she's said herself that just having her son made her human life worth all its suffering. What Edward's doing isn't safe for anyone, especially the little girl he supposedly loves, and she's a fool if she thinks he's worth risking her whole life for."

Alice sighed. Rosalie was right of course, in a way. Getting close to Edward would be dangerous for Bella, and who knew how many human experiences she would miss out on if she decided that she wanted to stay with him. Rosalie was angry at the danger that Bella posed to their family, yes, but Alice saw now that she was also angry at Bella Swan for being so careless with her humanity,

"Honestly, how can any of you go along with this?" Rosalie fumed, speaking more to herself than Alice or Jasper, who was still looking uncomfortable—Alice knew that the only thing he hated more than disagreeing with her was anything that he perceived to be a threat to her safety.

"You know that Carlisle and Esme don't have the heart to try and stop this, and neither do I," Alice said gently, wondering if she could convince Rosalie by appealing to the part of her, however much she tried to hide it, that really cared for Edward. "Edward meeting Bella like this…it's not so different from how Carlisle met Esme, you know. That's why they can't bear to stop him-Edward and Bella remind them too much of themselves. Besides, you've seen how different Edward's been lately, Rose. If he can manage to be close to Bella, he's going to be really happy—happier than he's ever been before."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Perish the thought of me getting in the way of Edward being _happy_ with Bella Swan. Now if only he could decide if he wants to kiss her or feast on her blood."

Alice sighed—she was out of ideas, and a quick glance at the future told her that Rosalie was going to continue to disapprove of Bella Swan for the foreseeable future. Looking across the cafeteria, Alice saw that Bella was getting ready to leave for her next class. At least Bella and Rosalie didn't have any classes together; if they had, Alice knew that Rosalie wouldn't have been able to resist the temptation to dispose of the girl.

Whenever she thought about Edward and his mixed feelings for Bella, Alice couldn't help but be impressed by the way Carlisle had treated Esme when she'd been human: he'd needed no hectoring siblings or concerned parents to tell him what the right thing to do was. And though the right thing—leaving Esme—had ended up hurting both of them, Alice was sure that it had been the right thing to do. Carlisle and Esme would be very different people if they'd stayed together when Esme had been human, and Alice wasn't sure that they would be happier people—Esme certainly would have always wondered what it would have been like to have children. Edward and Bella were a different story though. If they separated now, Alice wasn't sure what would happen. Edward, for his part, would be devastated, and though Bella's future was murkier, it was clear that just the absence of Edward at lunch today made her miserable.

"Time for class," Jasper said quietly, and Alice sighed. She could see that the conversation about Bella Swan was far from over. She and Carlisle and Esme had all made their decisions about the girl: Edward cared for her, and so they cared for her too. But Jasper still felt the need to be cautious, and Alice could see that it would take time for Jasper to learn to treat Bella as an acceptable risk, let alone come to like her. Emmett was still too amazed by Edward's behavior to even try to decide how he actually felt about Bella, and Rosalie…well, Rosalie was clearly determined to be her usual contrary self. Whether Edward could manage to stay away from her or not, Alice didn't need to look into the future to know that the Cullens were a far greater danger to Bella than she could ever be to them.


	142. Reassuring

Hi everyone! Sorry I'm a bit late, but homework has sort of dominated my life the past few days. I did manage to finish two chapters for this week, but since it's late and I'm tired, I'm only going to post one tonight-you'll get the other tomorrow. :) Today's chapter is set in the summer between "Twilight" and "New Moon." (I love to think about how Bella would have gotten to know Edward and all the Cullens better—except for Emmett and Rosalie, who, according to "New Moon" are away in Africa—during this time.) Thanks as always for your really wonderful reviews, and I hope you had a great weekend! Please check back for another chapter tomorrow night! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY TWO MORE DAYS UNTIL THE OFFICIAL ILLUSTRATED GUIDE IS RELEASED! :)

_2005_: Reassuring

Bella's POV

It was a hot, cloudy day in Forks, identical to every other day we'd had the past few weeks, and Edward needed to go hunting. Ever since my misadventure in Phoenix, he'd been waiting as long as he could between hunting trips, and though months had passed since then, he still hated to leave me for any length of time, in spite of my insistence that he didn't need to wait until his eyes had been black for days before going. Finally, we'd agreed to a plan that would allow him to hunt without worrying: today, Edward was going hunting with Carlisle and Jasper, and I was going shopping with Alice and Esme.

When I told Charlie about my plans for the day at breakfast, he seemed thrilled, as he always was when I spent time with any Cullen other than Edward. Charlie still couldn't seem to thank Carlisle enough for what he'd done for me in Phoenix, and after him, Alice and Esme were two of my Dad's favorite people lately, since they were the only reasons that I was ever apart from Edward. Edward…who I'd spent nearly every glorious day with all summer long.

The constant clouds hardly bothered me anymore, because cloudy weather meant that on dry days, we could be outside together, though summer days with Edward in Forks were a lot different than those I'd spent back home. We'd go for walks in the woods, which never seemed ominous with Edward beside me, or lay outside on a blanket together, both of us with books in our hands that we barely paid attention to—we liked talking better—or we'd go for a drive, usually in his Volvo, and from the window I might have seen most of Washington, Oregon, and even some of British Columbia pass by if I'd ever looked away from Edward. Of course, on days that it was rainy or sunny, we could go to his house or mine, which was just as good or better than being together outside. After all, we usually had more privacy indoors, and since the cast came off my leg, Edward was slowly learning to treat me less like I was made of glass and more like I was an ordinary, if comparatively fragile human.

"Tell Esme and Alice I said hi," Charlie called before he left for work, and then I went upstairs to get my purse. 'Shopping' today was going to consist of a trip to Olympia, where Alice wanted to do some clothes shopping, I wanted to do some book shopping, and Esme had some paintings to drop off at a gallery. It was going to be a bit of a drive, and of course I could have just as easily bought some books online, but I inevitably jumped at the chance to get out of Forks for a little while, and it was always fun to spend time with Alice and Esme, who I thought of as my future family whether Edward liked it or not. And impossibly, they seemed to like me just as much as I liked them.

As soon as I got back downstairs, I went straight to the front door—I knew without looking that Esme would already be parked outside. After a few months of daily interaction with vampires, I'd learned that they were eerily punctual.

"Good morning, honey," Esme said warmly, smiling at me as I climbed into the back seat with Alice.

"Are you ready for some shopping?" Alice said eagerly, singing the words to the tune of a song I was familiar with from all the times I'd heard Charlie watching Monday Night Football.

"Don't you mean football?" I said, rolling my eyes. "Honestly Alice, how many times have you told me about going shopping this month alone? How can you get excited every time?"

"Because," Alice said serenely, "every time I go shopping, I see myself buying something that's worthy of my impeccable taste."

I couldn't help but laugh—coming from anyone else, it would have sounded conceited, but coming from Alice, it was only the truth. Whenever I made the mistake of following Alice into a clothing store, I often ended up modeling various outfits until I could engineer an escape by claiming that I was hungry or needed a bathroom break.

As we drove, I told Esme and Alice about what I'd been reading lately (when Edward wasn't distracting me of course, but they didn't need me to explain that to them), and Alice talked about what she'd been doing for the fashion design course that she was taking online over the summer. It was a college level class, but of course, Alice had already graduated from high school several times before. Then Esme told us about the paintings she was taking to the gallery, which were mostly landscapes of places that the Cullens had lived in the past. It was easy to talk to Alice and Esme—though I'd known them for only a few months now, spending time with them was almost like spending time with my Mom.

Once we arrived in downtown Olympia, Esme dropped us off beside the bookstore I intended to visit, and Alice hurried to a clothing store across the street while Esme drove toward the art gallery. It didn't take me long to find several books I wanted, and after I'd paid, I walked to the clothing store to see if Alice had finished shopping; but of course, she'd barely gotten started. I fled before she could force me to try anything on, saying that I'd walk to Esme's gallery, which was only a few blocks away. It was nice to walk around in a big city for a change—there weren't really many places to walk around in Forks that weren't part of an endless stretch of woods. The sun even came out from behind the clouds for a moment, and though I was worried for a few minutes about Alice and Esme being outside, it quickly grew overcast again.

The gallery that Esme's paintings were being shown in reminded me of some of those I'd gone to with Renée back in Phoenix during a phase when she'd been interested in art. The paintings and sculptures were all really professional—my Mom had had a good time taking art classes and hanging her work around our house, but she'd never done anything as impressive as these. The gallery was in a nice part of Olympia, and though I knew little about art, I guessed that the pieces exhibited here were nearly as good as the sorts of things that were shown in museums. I knew that Esme's work was in more than a few museums scattered around the world, under various aliases, and I wondered how many people over the past few decades had bought one of her paintings to put in their house. It was interesting to think about what the reactions of such collectors might have been if they could have known the true identity of the artist whose work they enjoyed.

Esme came out of the back of the gallery a few minutes after I arrived, a portfolio under her arm, and we headed for the front of the building, where Esme said she needed to talk to someone.

"Thanks again for lifting those paintings out of my car, Tom," Esme said, stopping and smiling at the middle-aged man with glasses who stood behind the desk by the door. The man immediately flushed slightly, looking pleased.

"No trouble at all, Esme. Is this one of your daughter's friends?"

"Yes, this is Alice's friend Bella," Esme explained. "Bella, this is Tom Finholt. He manages the gallery."

"Nice to meet you," I said, nodding at the paintings displayed behind me. "Everything here is really beautiful."

"Well, we try to have the best," Tom said, smiling at us. "That's why we exhibit so many of Mrs. Cullen's paintings. You might try working with canvases that are small enough for you to lift though, Esme. Those big ones must be hard to move around your studio."

"My husband and my sons help me move them," Esme said, smiling as if amused by her lack of physical strength. It was difficult not to laugh when I considered that Esme could have lifted her car with ease if she'd wanted to, let alone the heavy paintings she'd had in the trunk earlier.

I looked around the gallery for a few more minutes while Esme talked to Tom, and then we headed back to the car.

"You use canvases too big for you to lift, huh?" I said, grinning at Esme as she led the way to the parking lot.

Esme laughed. "I hope poor Tom didn't pull any muscles, doing all that lifting. But off course pretending that they're too heavy for me is an important part of the human charade. Besides, it gave Tom the chance to feel chivalrous."

"Isn't it hard, pretending to be human all the time?" I asked suddenly. "I mean, aside from being thirsty, isn't it difficult living like this, always having to pretend to be…normal? You don't have to live or work so close to people, but you do. Isn't it really risky?"

"It certainly can be, but I think that most of the time, it's safer," Esme said thoughtfully. "You've mostly only seen us in Forks, but in bigger cities like this, we blend in a little better—better than we do with our own kind, really."

"But you have friends who are…regular vampires, don't you?" I said awkwardly. 'Regular' seemed like the wrong word for creatures who killed humans on a regular basis, but I knew that there were a lot more vampires like that than there were creatures like the Cullens.

"Yes, but they're mostly friends of Carlisle's and Jasper's, people they knew long before the rest of us were changed. And they're perfectly friendly, but they have no interest in living the way we do, and vice versa. Our lives are so different that we don't really have much to talk about, other than the obvious."

I smiled at the thought of vampires trying to make conversation about something other than being vampires; once you'd covered bloodlust and the weather, I could see how it might be a struggle to think of something to say.

"Having jobs and going to school though," I said carefully. "I guess I don't completely understand why you all do it. It just seems like such a struggle, having to hide in plain sight all the time."

"I suppose we have a lot of reasons for living the way we do. We're happy this way, but…" Esme glanced at me, smiling knowingly. "But from a human perspective, it must seem a little crazy for vampires to go to school and have jobs."

"Um," I said awkwardly, because I'd often thought exactly that. It was no mystery to me why the Cullens sought to live without drinking human blood, but going through high school once was bad enough; it was hard to imagine doing it over and over again. "It's not crazy so much as…hard to understand. No offense."

Esme laughed. "I'm not offended, Bella. If I were still human, I'm sure that I would think we were crazy too. And others of our kind certainly think it's strange. But for us…well, I think we like living this way precisely because we're immortal. We have all the time in the world ahead of us, and of course we all like to travel, to pursue our hobbies, and to spend time with the people we love, but if we did nothing but enjoy ourselves, then it would get harder and harder to appreciate the things we enjoy as time went on. It's nice not to have to work, of course, but for me…it doesn't really feel like I'm living unless I'm working on something. And I think the others feel that way too. We're always looking for new things to study, new skills to master, because it makes us feel like we're a real part of the world—that we have a purpose."

"So that's why you and Carlisle work?" I asked.

"Well, we both enjoy what we do too, but yes, that's at least part of why. Carlisle's happy when he can help save lives, and I'm happy creating art or designing homes for people to enjoy. And school is more than just something to do for the kids. Though we have to live sort of apart from humans, when we go to work and school, we feel like there's more to life than us, and thirst, and living forever. It's…refreshing really, to be around humans, who have so many possibilities ahead of them, when we have so few by comparison. We're always going to be the way we are now, so by being around people who change, who have potential, we don't feel as isolated as we would otherwise. We feel connected, because even though we're only on the edge of the lives of the vast majority of humans we meet, we can still get closer to people than the rest of our kind can. From what Jasper's told us about the lives of vampires with a traditional diet, it's a rather lonely existence."

I nodded, feeling less confused now. "That makes sense. Thanks for explaining. Hopefully…well, I'll need to live the same way you do someday."

Esme smiled at me, but her expression was a little sad too. She didn't need to spell out why: she and Carlisle never got angry the way Edward did when I mentioned joining their family, but I could tell that none of the Cullens, even Alice, who was almost painfully eager to have a new sister, wanted to end my human life.

We pulled up in front of the clothing store that Alice had gone into just as Alice herself stepped out onto the sidewalk, loaded down with shopping bags and grinning hugely.

"I can't help but think that at least one of those bags is for you," Esme said with a chuckle.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure you're right."

When Alice got in the car, she sat in the back seat with her bags and gave us a detailed list of everything she'd bought and who she'd bought it for. As she described the vision that had led her to what she deemed the 'perfect' dress, my attention wandered back to what Esme had told me about working and going to school. Somehow, I felt…comforted at the thought of a future of pretending to be human with the Cullens. It was oddly reassuring to know that even when I became a vampire someday, not everything about my life would change. In another hundred years, I might even learn to enjoy having homework, if only because it would make me all the more appreciative of having an eternity to spend with Edward.


	143. Implications

Happy Monday, everyone! Today's chapter takes place at the same time the previous chapter did—it's just a conversation that I imagine Edward might have had with Carlisle following "Twilight," when he'd be especially preoccupied with protecting Bella but still unwilling to change her. Thank you as always for your really wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again on Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and OHMYGOSH I'LL BE ABLE TO BUY AND READ THE GUIDE TOMORROW! :)

_2005_: Implications

Edward's POV

Jasper could sense that there was something that I didn't want to say in his presence, so after he'd drained a couple of elk, he told Carlisle that he'd meet us at home. Carlisle didn't seem surprised—I'd been spending so much time with Bella lately that I'd hardly had a moment to speak with my father privately. And without Rosalie around to disapprove of the way I was letting a human get so close to us, it was easy to pretend that there was nothing wrong, and that things between Bella and I could continue indefinitely without any complications. When I was with Bella, it was especially easy to tell myself that everything was all right. But whenever I left her, even only just long enough to hunt, I would start to remember all the doubts that plagued me when I thought about what she was giving up to be close to me. And even if Bella was determined to spend her life with me, how could I really let it go on when doing so meant keeping her in danger every second that we were together?

"What's on your mind, son?" Carlisle asked a few minutes after Jasper had turned toward home. We'd buried the carcasses of our kills, and now we were running east, skirting the Canadian border.

It was hard to know how to begin—I was grateful to both my parents for accepting my wish to be with Bella. But sometimes I worried that they were almost _too_ ready to accept Bella as a permanent part of our family. How could they after the close call we'd had with James?

_Is this about Bella?_ he thought.

I smiled grimly. "Is it that obvious?"

_What else would you be so worried about?_

"You're really going to allow it, then?" I said quietly, knowing he could easily hear me even over the rush of the wind as we ran."I mean, I can hardly fault you for being too accepting, but can staying with Bella really be the right thing to do?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Carlisle said slowly. "Seeing how happy you both are, I can't believe that it's wrong for you two to be together. But when I think about the risks involved, of course I can understand why you worry. Esme and I worry too."

This was exactly the kind of honest answer that I'd hoped for and feared in equal measure. There was a small part of me that wanted Carlisle, who'd been my father for nearly a century, to have the perfect solution to the problem I was facing. But of course there was no answer that would fix everything to my satisfaction or Bella's. She wanted to be like me, I wanted her to stay human, and we both wanted to be together. There was no compromise possible that wouldn't deny one of us the thing we wanted most (or in Bella's case, what she thought she wanted most).

"I don't care what Alice says," I said firmly, unable to keep a note of irritation out of my voice. "Bella isn't going to become one of us."

"Maybe not," Carlisle said gently. "As usual, what Alice sees depends on the decisions of every party involved. You and Bella both seem very determined to pursue a future together, and so Alice sees you together. It only remains to be seen whether Bella will be human or immortal in that future."

"But how can we stay together if doing so might mean my killing her someday?" I asked, my voice bleak. I always felt more than a little desperate whenever the subject of Bella's mortality came up. "I don't want to live without her, but I know how selfish that is. How can I justify putting her in danger for the rest of her life?"

"Son," Carlisle said gently. "This is Bella's choice too. I think that as long as the two of you love each other, you'll find a way to be together. I don't know how, but somehow things will be all right."

I sighed. "You sound like Esme. Don't you think that logically, optimism is rather unwarranted in this situation?"

Carlisle smiled and shrugged slightly as he ran. "Your mother has convinced me that worrying isn't going to help you or Bella, and since Esme and I don't know what the right thing to do here is any more than you do, it seems best to just take things as they come. We'll do whatever we can to help you both, but in a situation like this, which seems to be unique, I don't think we can rely on our usual notions of right and wrong. You and Bella are together now, and I can't bring myself to disapprove of that."

I was silent for a few moments as we ran. "If you had it to do over again, would you have stayed with Esme when you first met her?"

Carlisle slowed down, and I matched his pace until we were moving almost at human speed.

_We both know that it's no good thinking that way_, Carlisle thought, sighing a little himself now. _No one can change the past._

"But if you could," I persisted. "Would you?"

"I honestly don't know," Carlisle said quietly. "I only know that if I had the chance, I would be sorely tempted to stay with her. We've talked about it, and…Esme doesn't know either. At sixteen, she wasn't thinking about being a mother. She never could have imagined the love she would feel for her son, even in the short time she knew him. If she'd been ignorant of that, and if I could have convinced myself that I wasn't depriving her of anything like a child that she would love more than life itself…then yes. I think we would have wanted to stay together, regardless of any possible consequences."

"I don't know if that's true," I said, watching my father carefully. I could hear that his thoughts were sincere, but Carlisle was one of the most selfless people I knew. It was hard to imagine any reality where he might have been as selfish as I was.

As if reading my thoughts for a change, Carlisle smiled and said, "I can be very selfish when it comes to Esme. If I'd allowed myself to get to know her when we first met, then I don't think I could have resisted the temptation to be with her, no matter what the risk, and I would have consoled myself with the knowledge that she felt the same love for me."

"But that wouldn't have made it right," I insisted.

Carlisle shrugged. "That was what I thought at the time. So I left her, and I'm always going to regret that. Esme and I both have regrets about her human life, and I'm sure that if I'd stayed with her, we'd have different regrets. I don't think it's possible to live any sort of life, whether you do the things you think are right or not, without some measure regret."

I nodded slowly as I digested this. "For now then, I think I can live with the regrets I have about staying with Bella more easily than I could regret leaving her."

Carlisle nodded at me and smiled, then started to run again. "I'm glad to hear it, Edward. Ready to head back home?"

"Sure. And…thanks," I said, though I wasn't sure if I was relieved or irritated at having gotten off so easily. Sometimes I thought that if Carlisle and Esme would only try to lecture me about the dangers of what I was doing, then I wouldn't feel so guilty about the way I was constantly jeopardizing Bella's safety. If they'd doubted me, then maybe I could have mounted some kind of defense, and maybe I could have convinced myself that what I was doing was all right. But as it was, their constant support made me feel undeserving of their trust, and I could never quite find a way to convince myself that I didn't deserve my guilty conscience.

_I know that you're going to have regrets of your own, no matter what you do, Edward_, Carlisle thought as we ran west, back toward Forks, _but I'd be very glad if you could avoid sharing the regrets that I have._

I sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and unease at the end of our conversation similar to the way I'd felt at the beginning of it. I was happy at the idea of getting back to Bella, but the implications of my own guilty conscience still troubled me. Of course I would regret leaving Bella, assuming I could ever manage to tear myself away from her, but how much worse would my regrets be someday if I did stay…and doing so cost Bella her life?


	144. Fascinated

Hi everyone! Sorry I'm updating a day late, but I had a final paper and one last project to finish this weekend. Now though, I'm pretty much all done with school (graduation's the only thing left), so next week's chapters should be on time. :)

First of all, how awesome is the Official Illustrated Guide? Pretty awesome, in my estimation, though of course it reveals a bunch of inaccuracies in this fanfic, but oh well, at least from now on, it'll be easier to check a detail if I'm unsure about it. Over the next few weeks, I'm going to try and go back and edit some old chapters so they're a little more accurate—now that I've got the guide, I can finally correct some mistakes I've been meaning to deal with for a while now. (To those of you who have mentioned mistakes in your reviews, you're totally right, and I'm really looking forward to having some time off so I can fix things :))

This week's first chapter is a story set after Carlisle changed Esme but before they were married; I always love to imagine the time between when Carlisle and Esme fell in love and when they were able to express their feelings for each other. The quotes at the end of this chapter come from "Much Ado About Nothing"—now that I'm almost done with school, I'm trying to read a few more classics before the end of the semester. :) Thanks for your reviews, and look for one more chapter after this!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 213 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! :)

_1921_: Fascinated

Carlisle's POV

It had been several weeks since Esme had joined their family, but Carlisle was still having a difficult time adjusting to her presence in the house. Honestly, part of the problem was that she had taken the news of her transformation so well. Carlisle was confident that he could have managed and endured the hatred of a difficult newborn—he'd had some practice at that—but what was he supposed to do with a newborn who seemed to not only accept her new life but who seemed to almost enjoy it? And how was he to go about managing the difficult feelings he suddenly had for the lively, cheerful, and fascinating Esme?

Edward had been furious when the change had ended and Carlisle had told him what he was, and the first few weeks of their life together had been full of tense silences, angry outbursts, and resentful glares on Edward's part. Carlisle had been patient and apologetic, remembering his own anger when he'd first realized what he'd become, and after a few months, he and Edward had become friends. Three years later, they were family, and when Carlisle had brought Esme to the house, they'd both been expecting the rages of an angry newborn to dominate their lives for the immediate future. But Esme wasn't angry. She was calm, curious about her new life, and interested in her new family. Strange as it seemed, Carlisle realized that Esme was almost…happy. She was still a little shy, or rather, she simply seemed uncertain as to what her role in their family should be, and she was afraid to go outside alone—she was terrified at the thought of killing a human if she went hunting on her own—but as long as she stayed inside, she was cheerful and always eager to help around the house or simply sit and talk.

Carlisle didn't know what to make of Esme. She was so different from any other immortal he'd ever met—her kindness and obvious contentment when she spoke to him or Edward made Carlisle feel…confused. In so many ways, she was still the lively girl he remembered meeting ten years before, but there was a deep sadness about her too. The contradiction between the enjoyment she seemed to feel for her new life and the grief she felt for the loss of her son made Esme a constant source of fascination for him. He worried too though; Edward's grief and anger after the transformation had been more overt, but Esme could be so quiet and withdrawn at times that it seemed impossible to reach her or help her move beyond the pain she felt.

Then there was the fact that she was simply so young. Carlisle thought that part of the reason that Esme confused him was because she reminded him, even more than Edward had, of how much time had passed since he'd been human. One such reminder had occurred on a morning when he came home from work late. Edward had already left for school, and he found Esme standing in the living room with all the lamps off, gazing out the window as a thunderstorm raged outside. Carlisle had removed his waterlogged hat and coat before going to stand beside her.

"Do you want me to light a lamp or a candle?" he'd asked quietly. In Chicago, he and Edward had had electricity, but Ashland didn't have an electric grid yet, and even when they got one, Carlisle doubted that the power company would consent to extend their lines to the house, since it was so far out of town.

"Not yet, if you don't mind," Esme had said quietly, staring out at the storm. "This is the first time since I've lived here that we've had such bad weather, and I'm curious."

"Curious about what?" Carlisle had asked, but before she could answer, a huge boom of thunder had shaken the house, and Esme, with a shriek of alarm, had wrapped her arms around him and crushed her face against his chest in a painful hug.

For an instant, Carlisle had been too shocked to move, and he'd thought briefly of how good it felt to have her so close before he heard a crack and realized that she'd momentarily forgotten her enormous strength—now she was literally crushing him.

"Esme," he'd said gently, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Remember how much stronger than me you are at the moment."

"Oh!" Esme had said, releasing him with a look of mortified shock. "I'm—I'm so sorry, Carlisle! I—the thunder…"

She'd gone on to explain, in an embarrassed tone, that as a human, she'd been afraid of thunder, and as the storm had raged on for nearly an hour, Carlisle had had ample time to observe the way she jumped a little every time lightening flashed and the noise of the thunder began again. It hadn't taken him long to decide that it wasn't thunder so much as sudden loud sounds that bothered Esme, and after the life she'd led with her former husband, why wouldn't aggressive sounds that suggested impending violence frighten her? They had several storms that same week, and gradually, Esme seemed to flinch less and less at the sound of thunder. Carlisle wondered if it was because her memory of that human fear was fading, or if she was simple becoming more confident in the fact that she was really immortal, really a fantastically powerful creature that no human man could ever hurt again.

Carlisle's favorite time to be with Esme was when Edward was at school. They would sit together in his study or the living room, reading and talking, and on this particular day, though Carlisle was wondering yet again what to make of Esme's ready acceptance of life as a vampire, he was also enjoying their conversation about Shakespeare.

"I like the tragedies," Esme was saying, "simply because they seem more believable than most of the comedies. For one thing, there aren't so many puns, and not everyone ends up happily married in the end. I know they were written to be entertaining, but the conclusions of some of Shakespeare's comedies just seem too neat and predictable."

"Maybe that wasn't the case in the sixteenth century though," Carlisle pointed out. "We both grew up after Shakespeare's time, and by the time I started reading a lot of fiction, people had been imitating his plots in their own stories for years. In your case, people had been using Shakespeare's ideas for centuries—you probably read books that were inspired by him long before you ever read or saw one of his plays."

"True," Esme said, laughing. "I guess that Shakespeare's happy endings were more of a novelty when he first wrote them than they are today. And maybe I'm a bit more critical of him now that I have a perfect memory—when I read Shakespeare as a girl, I was usually so busy trying to figure out what the characters were talking about that I hardly thought about how the plays ended."

Carlisle smiled. "Maybe people really talked that way in the 16th century, but by the 17th, at least the people I knew weren't quite so loquacious. "

Esme laughed, but after examining the volume of Shakespeare she was holding for a moment, she grew serious. "Usually I love happy endings," Esme said thoughtfully, "but with Shakespeare, sometimes the happy endings ring false. In a way, I suppose it's just hard to trust an outcome that seems too good to be true. Somehow, tragedy seems more plausible."

Carlisle didn't argue—she was right, in that it was easier in many ways to expect misery than to hope for happiness—you were less likely to be disappointed that way. Of course Esme felt this way after the life she'd led. She'd been married, but that hadn't brought her happiness. She'd had a child who she'd loved, but the pain of losing him had made her want to end her life. In some ways, her human life had been defined by tragedy.

"I know what you mean," he said after a slight pause. "For myself, I mean, after living alone for so long, some days it's hard to believe that I ended up with you and Edward. It seems too good to be true."

Esme smiled a little sadly. "We're hardly a happy ending. I mean, I can see how proud you are of Edward, and with good reason, but I'm…more of a hindrance than a help to you, really."

"No you're not," Carlisle said quietly. He tried to keep his voice casual, but he was afraid that he might be betraying more than he intended when he said, "I'm very glad I found you, Esme. I should really tell you so more often, but…" He smiled, thinking of Shakespeare again. "'Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. I were but little happy if I could say how much.'"

Esme smiled then, and Carlisle could swear that she would be blushing if it were possible. "Thank you, Carlisle," she said quietly, looking down at the book in her hands almost shyly.

Carlisle couldn't respond. He wished that he could say the words that followed those he'd just quoted: 'Lady, as you are mine, I am yours. I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.' Maybe someday he'd be able to tell her how he felt, but for now, there were moments, like this one, when he was too fascinated by Esme to even speak.


	145. Art

Hi again! Today's second chapter is just a fun Jacob chapter—I love the idea of him and Nessie just interacting platonically rather than romantically (I have a hard time imagining Nessie as an adult—she's just more fun to imagine as a kid that all the Cullens can dote on :)). Thanks as always for your wonderful reviews, and I hope that your week got off to a great start! See you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and has anyone else seen the picture online of the cover of the "Twilight Graphic Novel: Volume 2"? I'm not sure if it's real or not, but it looks pretty convincing. (You can find it pretty easily through Google if you're interested). Ooh, I really hope we get a release date for Volume 2 soon! :)

_2007_: Art

Jacob's POV

It was a sunny afternoon, so I decided to go over to the Cullens place to see if Nessie wanted to play outside with someone whose skin didn't sparkle conspicuously. There was no problem if she just wanted to stay on the property—the Cullens could go out in the sun there as long as they stayed in the yard or the forest surrounding the house—but if she wanted to go anywhere else, like to the store out at La Push for some ice cream (which was what I was planning on suggesting), then I would be happy to volunteer. Nessie could usually care less about human food, but she was almost always up for ice cream.

A sudden thought bothered me a little as I shifted and starting running toward the Cullens' territory: Charlie had yet to notice that he never saw Bella outside on sunny days anymore. Of course, it wasn't like we had a lot of sunny days anyway, and Bella had never been all that outdoorsy anyway. Still, when Charlie had driven up to the house at dawn that morning to pick Billy up to go fishing, I remembered thinking, in the way that it's easy to think of stuff to worry about when you're half asleep, that Charlie would have liked to have his daughter and granddaughter go fishing with him sometime on a beautiful day like this. Maybe I'd have to ask Billy to give Charlie a hint to only invite Bella to do stuff on cloudy days, though it would probably be impossible to do that in a way that wouldn't make Charlie suspicious. I just knew that Bella would feel like crap if she ever had to say, "sorry Dad, but I can't go anywhere with you today. The weather's too nice."

When I got to the Cullens' place, I found Nessie and Bella sitting in the living room, reading a book together. Edward was at the piano, playing one of those complicated melodies that sometimes make me wish that I'd paid attention in music class when I was younger, though I knew that even if I had, without a hundred years of practice, I couldn't possibly be as good as Edward was. Anyway, if I was going to be hanging out with vampires for the rest of my life, it wasn't like I wouldn't have the time to learn someday. Maybe I could learn to play guitar or something, and Edward and I could form a band with some of the other Cullens: "Jacob and the Bloodsuckers" seemed like a pretty good name to me, but I was pretty sure that everyone else in my future made-up band would take issue with it.

"Hi, Jake!" Nessie called, waving to me.

"Hi," I said, going to sit with them on the couch. "What are you reading?"

"We're looking at paintings," Nessie explained, turning the book in my direction to show me-it looked like an art history textbook. "Grandma wants to paint me, so we're looking at other paintings to kind of…compare."

When I looked confused, Bella laughed. "Alice and Rosalie both have about six outfits picked out for Nessie to be painted in, so Nessie wants to convince Esme that a painting of her wearing something simple would look nicer. We're trying to find a good painting to use as an example."

"It would look more like _me_," Nessie explained, "if I were wearing something…normal. I mean, I don't wear fancy dresses unless someone asks me to—I'd rather dress like Mama."

I laughed. "Yeah, that makes sense. You look cute no matter what you wear, so why bother with the frilly stuff?"

It was easy to imagine how disappointed Alice must be that Nessie, like her mother, would rather wear a t-shirt and jeans than the kinds of scary-expensive looking dresses that Alice and Rosalie liked to take pictures of her wearing. Since she'd become a vampire, Bella had started to dress a little bit differently: she wore nicer shirts sometimes, and khakis instead of jeans—but she still wasn't really a dress kind of girl, unless she and Edward were going out somewhere—and I think it was sort of a relief to everyone who'd known her when she'd been human to see that she still wore some of the old clothes left over from her former life.

Bella rolled her eyes at me. Though she knew I'd meant it innocently, the rule was that I wasn't supposed to comment on Nessie's appearance until she was grown up—for the next six years, I was supposed to keep my damn mouth shut as much as possible. Most of the Cullens knew that I didn't mean anything creepy when I said that Nessie was cute—hell, no one could argue that she was probably the cutest little kid in the world—but if Rosalie ever heard me call Nessie "cute," she'd probably murder me…if I was lucky. Not for nothing did I think of Rosalie as the scariest aunt in the world; Edward and Bella would kill me if I ever hurt Nessie, but Rosalie would do things that would make me wish I was dead long before she actually killed me. Since I was still alive though, either Rosalie wasn't in the house or she hadn't heard what I'd said.

"Grandma wants to paint me, Momma and Daddy together too," Nessie went on, still examining the paintings in the book.

"We still have to decide what to wear though," Bella said, shaking her head. Obviously, a fashion show coordinated by Alice was in her future—I found it funny that "we" was really just Alice. Esme and Bella, the painter and paintee, would be consulted, but Alice was going to have final say on the outfit, I was sure of that.

"Will you have to model for her?" I asked, looking at Nessie and trying and failing to picture her standing still for as long as it would take Esme to complete a painting. After all, she was only half vampire, and as smart as she was, she was still a little kid—I was practically an adult, and even I found the idea of sitting or standing still indefinitely to be painfully boring.

"Maybe, but mostly she's going to use pictures of us," Nessie said. "Grandma's probably going to end up doing more than one painting of me—one for Momma and Daddy to put in the cottage, and then two more for Alice and Rosalie to hang in their rooms."

"I probably can't have painting for my house, can I?" I asked, trying and failing to hide a grin.

Nessie laughed. "I think Aunt Rosalie would get mad about that, Jacob."

"She'd definitely get mad," Bella said, rolling her eyes at me again. "Besides, you already have tons of pictures of you and Nessie together."

"Let's go ask Grandma if she'll paint you sometime," Nessie said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the stairs. "We'll be right back."

"They're in Grandpa's study," Bella said, going over to sit by Edward. "Make sure you knock before you go in."

Nessie and I raced up the stairs (she won—I have longer legs, but she's always faster than me unless I'm a wolf). I know better than to walk in on married vampires unannounced, so I knocked before Nessie could rush into Carlisle's office without warning. I wasn't surprised to see Carlisle and Esme on opposite sides of the room, trying to look like they were absorbed in whatever they were doing—Carlisle was at his desk, working at his laptop, and Esme was standing by one of the bookshelves that lined the walls, scanning the titles in front of her. I was pretty sure that they'd just been making out or something, because they both looked way too innocent—not innocent exactly, but more like they were trying extra hard to look like they hadn't just been doing anything that they wouldn't want their granddaughter to see.

"Hi, honey," Esme said when Nessie raced over and hugged her. "Hi, Jacob."

"Hi," I said. "I hope we didn't interrupt anything."

Esme smiled at me, but she gave me a look that made it clear that she knew that I knew that we'd definitely interrupted something. "No, but thank you for knocking."

From his desk, I heard Carlisle stifle a laugh.

"Grandma," Nessie said eagerly. "I was just wondering if you could paint Jacob sometime."

"Sure," Esme said, her smile more cheerful when she looked down at Nessie. "In fact, I've done some drawings of Jacob if you want to see them."

"Yes!" Nessie said eagerly. "Where are they?"

"In a sketchbook in our room," Esme said, taking Nessie's hand. "Come on, I'll show you."

"Bye, Grandpa!" Nessie called.

"Bye, Nessie," Carlisle said.

"When have you been drawing me, exactly?" I wondered, not sure if I was flattered or embarrassed.

"Well, I have lots of photos of you for reference, but you often fall asleep when you come over here too," Esme pointed out. "It's easy to draw you while you sleep."

"Oh," I said, not sure what to say. "Sure."

Esme laughed. "Here, look." We were standing in Carlisle and Esme's room now, where Esme took a sketchbook from her desk and opened it to show to me and Nessie. Sure enough, there were lots of drawings of me—unbelievably realistic ones that looked as lifelike as photographs—both as a human and as a wolf. In several, I was asleep, but lots were sketches of me running, me hanging out with Quil and Embry and Seth, or me playing with Nessie. All of the drawings were really detailed, or at least they looked that way to me—art, like music, wasn't something that I'd ever really gotten into in school.

"Wow," I said, stunned. "These are amazing."

Esme shrugged. "They're just sketches—it only takes me a moment to draw something like this. That's one of the benefits of having a flawless memory."

"These are great, Grandma!" Nessie said. "You really should paint Jacob sometime!"

"As a wolf or as a human?" Esme asked, tickling Nessie until she laughed.

"Hmm," Nessie said thoughtfully, looking at me. "I'm not sure. I think he's prettier as a wolf."

"You do, huh?" I said, scooping her up and putting her on my shoulders so I could hold Esme's sketchbook at eye level and we could both look. Flipping through the pages, I found lots of sketches of Edward and Bella too, probably for the painting Esme was planning, tons of pictures of Carlisle, and then dozens of sketches of Nessie. Like the ones of me, she was doing all sorts of things in the drawings: playing with her aunts and uncles, riding on my shoulders, hugging her parents and grandparents…even if Rosalie had been in earshot, I would still have declared these to be the cutest sketches ever in the history of the world. It wasn't like Rosalie would have argued with me.

"These are my favorites," I said, and Esme smiled.

"After the Carlisle pictures, they're my second favorites," she admitted, and I grinned at Nessie.

"Wow," she said, staring at the drawings her grandma had done with wide eyes. She whispered, almost shyly, "do I really look like that? I mean…" She touched my face and sent a slightly uncertain thought—she wondered if Esme was right to draw her looking so beautiful. I rolled my eyes—Nessie was wondering if she could really be as lovely as the rest of her perfect family.

"No," I said firmly. "You're even prettier, actually."

"Jacob's right, sweetheart," Esme said, closing the sketchbook. "You're a work of art, and don't ever forget it."

Nessie laughed, kissed me on the cheek, and then jumped off my shoulders.

"Thanks, Grandma!" she called, sounding as pleased and embarrassed as I'd felt when I'd seen Esme's drawings of me. She ran toward the stairs, probably to tell her parents about her grandma's sketchbook, and I followed her, happy to be chasing after my favorite work of art.


	146. Kids

Hi everyone! This week's first chapter is a fun one set just before Edward and Bella's wedding, in which Carlisle tries to reassure Charlie that Bella and Edward aren't making a mistake in getting married so young—I love the idea of Carlisle trying to comfort Charlie and not wanting to lie outright about his age or his relationship with Esme, but still having to conceal the truth somewhat. (Somehow, I just really like to imagine Carlisle pretending to be human. :)) I don't do many Charlie chapters, but I always enjoy them because of all the things that poor Charlie's kept in the dark about—it isn't until "Breaking Dawn" that Charlie realizes how much the people around him have been shielding him from. Thanks as always for your really great reviews, and look for one more chapter after this! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and…sigh, a lot more days left until "Breaking Dawn." (207 days to be exact).

_2006_: Kids

Charlie's POV

It was a week before the wedding, and Charlie was feeling more than a little nervous. This time last year, he'd been worried sick about Bella and livid with Edward Cullen about the role he'd played in bringing about that mess in Phoenix. Now…he was going to watch Bella marry the Cullen kid in just a few days time. It was a little hard to accept; Charlie still couldn't quite believe that he was really going along with the whole thing, and that Renée, rather than being horrified the way she should have been, was apparently so excited about the wedding that she was helping Esme and Alice plan it. Since it seemed too late to stop the inevitable (and Charlie knew that Bella would never forgive him if he tried), Charlie was trying to think about the big day as little as possible.

Bella was off with Alice for yet another wedding dress fitting, so Charlie, after a moment's hesitation, dialed the Cullen's place and asked if Carlisle wanted to come over and watch the baseball game. Normally, he would have called Billy, but Jacob's disappearance and Billy's reaction to it had him on edge. He just couldn't understand why Billy seemed so indifferent to the task of locating his own son—if Bella had been the one who'd vanished, Charlie knew that he would have searched without stopping for as long as it took to find her. Billy's stoic, patient attitude was unnerving, as was Bella's apparent though uncomfortable acceptance of Jacob's absence. Besides, he and Dr. Cullen were going to be related soon—this would be a good chance to try and get used to that idea. Of course the Cullens had a big screen so huge that it wouldn't have fit in Charlie's living room, but Charlie guessed that Carlisle would probably appreciate an excuse to escape from all the pre-wedding activity that was dominating the Cullens' place these days. Charlie imagined having the wedding in his own house, and shuddered at the thought.

"I know my TV's about half the size of yours…" Charlie said sheepishly after he'd explained why he was calling, but Carlisle chuckled.

"It's big, but I almost never get to watch it. The kids usually control the remote, and Rosalie said something earlier about her favorite reality show being on tonight—it's one of those shows where everyone designs clothes, so in answer to your question, yes, I'd love to come watch the game."

Charlie laughed, realizing how grateful he should be that Bella didn't like that sort of TV show. "Great. See you in a bit."

Bella had done the dinner dishes before leaving with Alice, and as Charlie hung up the phone, he couldn't help but gaze around the kitchen and imagine how different it would look a week from now, when Bella would be gone. In a little over a year's time, he'd grown attached to her presence in the house—it wasn't as though they talked a great deal, but just seeing each other every day, sharing the same spaces and having meals together, had made the past year one of the best times of his life. In retrospect, Charlie realized that he'd occasionally envied Renée's easy relationship with Bella when he'd seen them together in the past, during Bella's brief visits during the summer, but now Charlie realized that even if he'd lived with Bella her whole life, their relationship probably wouldn't be much different. They were just too similar, too introverted to ever talk the way Bella and Renée did, especially since Renée nearly always seemed to dominate their conversations. Charlie no longer worried that Bella was shy around him—rather, it almost seemed like she had to work a bit harder, be a bit more responsible with her mother. Charlie hoped that maybe while she'd lived with him, Bella had gotten to be herself a bit more—rather than being the responsible one, she'd been able to be more like other teenagers and go out with friends, have a boyfriend…and now she was marrying that boyfriend. Charlie sighed—maybe coming to live with him hadn't been the best thing for Bella after all.

"Hey. How's the wedding dress fitting going?" Charlie said, opening the door for Carlisle when he arrived.

Carlisle shrugged. "I have no idea. Last I knew, Alice was trying a few different kinds of makeup out on Bella to see what color of eye shadow with which shade of lipstick looked best."

Charlie chuckled grimly. "Yikes. How long until they're done, you think?"

"Not for a while yet, probably," Carlisle said, hanging up his coat. "When I left, Esme was thinking of setting fire to something to distract Alice long enough for Bella to escape."

"Poor kid," Charlie muttered, leading the way to the living room. "Want a beer?"

"Sure, thanks," Carlisle said easily, sitting down on the battered sofa that Bella sometimes occupied while doing her homework. For the next hour, they sat mostly in silence, watching the game. Normally, Charlie would have been more focused on what was happening up on the screen, but tonight, his attention kept slipping. He'd catch himself staring at the tab on his beer can, the power button on the TV rather than the TV itself, or the fireplace mantle, where Bella's school pictures were still displayed, in spite of her protests.

"Worried about next week?" Carlisle asked during a commercial.

Charlie sighed. "Yup. I just can't believe it's happening already, you know? This time next week, those two will be on their honeymoon."

"It is hard to believe," Carlisle said, shaking his head. "It seems like just yesterday that I was wondering how to even begin to be a parent, and now I have a son getting married."

"And we both look way too young for it," Charlie muttered self-consciously. "I mean, I was expecting to have a little more gray hair before I became someone's father-in-law."

Carlisle chuckled. "I know what you mean. Esme says that if it were anyone but Bella, she wouldn't be ready to be someone's mother-in-law."

"Now I understand what people mean when they say that 'kids grow up so fast,'" Charlie said. It was surprisingly easy to have this conversation with the TV on as background noise—somehow, it made his worries seem more manageable—like everyday concerns, rather than earth shattering problems. "I guess I just can't believe that she's an adult already—all these years, I've pictured her as staying a kid…not forever, but until I was ready for her to grow up…or something."

Carlisle smiled sadly. "If that was how it worked though, kids would never grow up. It's better this way, but you're right, it's hard to adjust to the idea that they're really adults, getting ready to start a life together."

Charlie was silent for a moment. "Getting married at eighteen though," he said hesitantly. "I mean, I got married right out of high school too, and…let's just say it wasn't my best idea. Renée and I…well, I think that thinking Bella was the greatest kid in the world was the only thing we ever agreed about."

"Esme and I got married a little later," Carlisle said mildly, and Charlie was glad that he seemed to accept the fact that, by most people's standards, it was insane to get married at eighteen. "She was actually sixteen when we met, and we waited several years after that before we got married. And in a way, I suppose I'm glad we waited. Our lives would have been a lot different if we hadn't."

"Your kids' lives too," Charlie said. "I was scared enough having one kid when I was nineteen."

Carlisle chuckled. "Yes, five kids would have been a struggle to support while I was trying to finish college."

Charlie was suddenly uneasy. "You don't think…I mean, Bella hasn't said anything, but they're going to wait to have kids until after they've finished school, aren't they?"

"I'm sure they are," Carlisle said, his tone relaxed and confident enough that Charlie relaxed a little too. "Edward and Bella are both pretty sensible people, Charlie—more sensible than I was at eighteen, at least. I know they'll wait until after they've graduated to do anything like that."

Charlie nodded uncertainly. "I hope you're right. I mean, I used to be sure that she'd be out of college before I had to get used to the idea of her getting married, but now, here we are. It's just…kids their age don't usually get married unless they…have to. But those two…well, I guess they've always seemed closer somehow, closer than most kids their age do in high school relationships."

Carlisle's expression was serious now. "You know Charlie, when we left last year, I think that was part of why Edward never contacted Bella. Esme and I talked to him about it, and what little he told us made it clear that he loved Bella, and wanted to marry her even then, but he couldn't believe that that could be the right thing for her. I think he thought that Bella would think it was ridiculous, as most eighteen-year-olds would—why marry the first person she'd ever dated? And we weren't sure either—like you, we thought it was just a high school crush at first. But then…well, neither of them dealt with separation very well."

Charlie tensed slightly—he didn't like to think about the way Bella had been back then. "I guess I'm glad to hear that, in a way," he said finally, thinking it over. It was somewhat mollifying to imagine that Edward might have been as miserable as Bella was when he left. "I mean, I thought back then that it must just be on Bella's side.

Carlisle smiled sadly. "Well, we hardly saw him, honestly. He barely ate or spoke, and school…didn't go well for him. He didn't try to keep going the way that I've heard Bella did. He hardly spoke to his siblings either—Alice was practically the only person he talked to, and even she could barely understand what was going through his mind then. According to her, he wanted Bella to just forget about him…but he couldn't forget about her. It took Alice and Bella together to finally convince him to come home when he…left."

Charlie wasn't going to ask what had happened with Edward that had led to Bella disappearing for days to go see him, and since he wasn't sure he wanted to know, he was glad when Carlisle didn't elaborate.

"Alice is a great kid," Charlie said instead—though he wasn't sure that the same could be said for his future son-in-law, at least he knew how he felt about Alice.

"Thanks," Carlisle said, smiling. "She'll be going to business school in the fall—she wants to be an event planner."

"If this wedding turns out as well as I think it will, it doesn't seem like she really needs a degree in that," Charlie said, shaking his head at the final score: Twins 5, Mariners 3. "Yikes. That was a rough ninth inning."

"They play in Detroit next week, don't they?" Carlisle asked. "The Tigers have been better than usual this year, but we'll see what happens."

Charlie waved as Carlisle drove away, and then he smiled slightly. He still wasn't sure that he was ready for Bella to become Bella Cullen yet, but at least his future in-laws were all right. He already liked Carlisle and Esme and Alice—maybe eventually, he'd get to know the other kids, and maybe, possibly, he'd learn to like Edward someday too. Possibly.


	147. Sturdy

Hi again! A couple of you have mentioned it in reviews, and you're absolutely right: the picture of the cover of Volume 2 of the Twilight graphic novel appears on the book jacket of the Official Illustrated Guide (inside, below author info about Stephenie Meyer). I've had the guide for almost two weeks now, and I never noticed that until someone told me exactly where the picture was! Yeah, I can be kind of unobservant that way… Today's second chapter is about Esme beginning to restore an old house and how she might go about that process, knowing that vampires are going to be living in said house. Thanks once again for your reviews (I can never thank you guys enough for all your really fantastic reviews-reading them always make my day), and I'll see you again next Sunday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of "Twilight," as you know. :)

_1939_: Sturdy

Esme's POV

The house that Esme was standing in, surrounded by swirling motes of dust and the splintered bits of rotten wood that she was removing from what had once been the kitchen floor, was going to take a lot of work to fix up, but Esme was undaunted. Just last week, after years of hard work (though of course resisting the temptation of her classmates' blood had been far more challenging than her classes), she'd finally gotten her degree in architecture. She already had a degree in art, but the architecture degree was something that Esme was particularly proud of: even as a human, she'd liked art and had possessed a modicum of natural talent for it, but her interest in architecture was something that she'd never even dreamed of exploring as a human—she'd never heard of any women architects, and even as an immortal, it had taken several years of idly sketching designs for floor plans and building facades for Esme to admit to herself that she'd like to study architecture formally, not just as a hobby.

Her human classmates had been surprised at first, and eventually bemused by her presence in their midst; though Esme was happy to see that there were more and more women attending universities now, a woman in the architecture program was still something of a rarity. Initially, Esme had been worried about attracting undue attention, and the polite but often patronizing attitudes of her professors had made her wonder if she should continue, but Carlisle had encouraged her, as had Edward and Emmett and Rosalie, and over the course of several years, she'd earned all the credits she needed for her degree. Now here she was, standing in a house that was, even if described in the most generous terms possible, a wreck. And Esme was excited, because her plans for restoring and redesigning the house were already coming together.

First, thanks to her superior speed and strength, Esme was able remove all of the rotten wood flooring, cabinets and paneling from the house with ease, and in just a few hours time, she'd finished a task that would have taken several human workers days to accomplish. She'd already inspected the foundation and knew that it was sound, but given the fact that all or at least part of her family was going to be living in this house, she began her second task, after cleaning up the mess she'd made as best she could, by laying brick beneath the place the new floor would be. Essentially, her plan was to replace the shallow root cellar beneath the house with a second foundation, the idea being that with two foundations, at least the ground floor of the house would be difficult for even vampires to destroy once a new floor was laid and the walls were reinforced. (Though they had their own house now, assuming it was still standing, a room would be set aside for Rosalie and Emmett on the ground floor, while Edward, who could be relied on not to destroy things as frequently as his siblings did, would have a room on the comparatively less sturdy second floor).

After laying the bricks, a process that took several hours, Esme left the mortar to dry and went upstairs to begin examining the walls. They were in good condition—only the wooden floors and fixtures on the ground floor had been rotten, due to a flood several months before—so Esme was confident that they wouldn't need to be replaced. She would have to find a way to make them sound proof, however—thick walls were one of Edward's conditions for having a room on the same floor as his parents.

Esme set to work removing faded wallpaper next, a task which sometimes led to showers of loose plaster raining down on her head, which was more amusing than irritating somehow; Esme decided that she must still be a bit giddy at the thought of being a college graduate twice over. If she could have seen herself as she was now twenty years ago, she never would have believed that a future that held so many unexpected and wonderful surprises—including the education she'd had, to say nothing of her wonderful children and perfect husband—could be possible.

After an hour of wallpaper removal, the thin layer of plaster dust covering her skin had left her looking even paler than usual, and her hair was a mess, full of bits of paper, splinters of wood, and plaster, but Esme didn't mind—Edward was planning to see a movie after his last class at the university ended, Rosalie and Emmett would be happily occupied at their own house, and Carlisle would be home late, so she would have plenty of time to clean up before anyone saw her in such a state. As she was cleaning up the mess of ripped paper, Esme noticed some quiet sounds coming from the attic.

_Rats_, her nose and predator's ears told her immediately—the stink of damp old wood and paper must have obscured the smell somewhat before, but now that she focused on the subtle scent of the rats, they became obvious…and moderately appetizing, Esme was slightly embarrassed to admit. She hadn't hunted in days, and really, it would be silly to set out traps for the animals when she could just as easily take care of the problem herself. Besides, she'd been working hard all day, and she needn't tell anyone about her impromptu snack, though she'd probably tell Carlisle, if only so they could compare notes on the taste and relative merits of rat blood as a quick way to quench thirst.

After a quick trip to the attic, during which Esme dispatched over a dozen plump rats, she surveyed the progress of the house with satisfaction. She could begin replacing the floors upstairs tomorrow—they were structurally sound, but for the sake of aesthetics, she wanted the floors on the first floor to match the floors on the second floor. Tonight, she would ask Edward and Carlisle for their opinions on wallpaper, though she knew they would have little if any opinion on the subject, and Esme would probably just end up painting the interior of the house, as she usually did—paint always seemed to age better than wallpaper. The staircase was a bit rickety, Esme noted as she went up and down it several times, but that could be easily fixed, and before doing anything with the floors tomorrow, she was going to have to do some plumbing work—that would probably occupy most of the morning, but it would be worth it to have a shower on the second floor. As for the windows, they were old, but beautiful, and since none of her family would be bothered by the chills they would let in during the winter or the heat they would admit in the summer, Esme decided that she probably wouldn't replace them just yet. A porch might be—

A knocking sound interrupted her thoughts then. Esme was so absorbed in her plans that it took her a moment to realize what the sound really was. Then she started with surprise—the sound of someone knocking on the front door echoed through the house a second time.

"It's me," Carlisle said, his voice perfectly audible, though Esme had returned to the attic to clean up a bit of blood after burying the rat carcasses outside. "Dr. Hayden said he'd cover the last three hours of my shift, since I did the same for him last week, so I thought I'd come see how the house was coming so far."

"Don't come in!" she called, trying unsuccessfully to smooth down her hair. "I'm a mess, really, you don't want to see me until I've showered, Carlisle."

Carlisle chuckled darkly. "You realize that by saying that, now I _really_ have to see you, dearest."

Esme sighed, not sure whether to laugh or pout—she went downstairs to meet him, smiling sheepishly. She hated to have Carlisle see her looking disheveled. As always, he was perfectly dressed, not a spot of plaster on him, and the only thing about him that was even slightly disheveled was his hair, which was slightly ruffled from the wind—it was after dark now, and he'd obviously run here after leaving work. Since he'd ran instead of taking the car, he'd clearly been hoping to surprise her.

Esme met him on the stairs, feeling more amused than embarrassed now at the thought of how she must look. After staring at her for a split second of amazed silence, Carlisle sprang forward and seized her, getting himself covered in plaster dust in the process and practically growling as he kissed her hungrily.

"You look unspeakably adorable," he declared, running his hands through her messy hair. "I love it when you get swept up in projects like this."

Esme laughed, but she snuggled against him, delighted, even as she said, "you should really let go of me, you know. You're going to be a mess now too."

"So we'll both go home and take a shower," Carlisle said with a grin, scooping her up in his arms and looking around the house appreciatively. "It already looks amazing in here, Esme. When we came over yesterday, it was hard to imagine this place as being habitable, even for our kind."

"With the rotten wood out of here, it doesn't smell quite so bad," Esme agreed, glancing at her work with a satisfied smile before turning to Carlisle again. "The only problem with it now is that there's no shower here yet. I'm planning to work on the plumbing tomorrow, but in the meantime, let's go home and get cleaned up."

"That sounds perfect," Carlisle said, setting her down when they got outside, but he still held her hand as they ran. Esme smiled in the darkness—yes, there was a lot of work left to do on the new house, but when it was finished, it would be sturdy enough for her family…for her and Carlisle to do whatever they liked there, even shower together.

"Why do I smell rat blood?" Carlisle wondered as they ran, and Esme laughed, and told him about her day.


	148. Gesture

Hi everyone! Sorry for missing last week, but I graduated last Friday—and then I moved out of my apartment the same day—so I've been pretty swamped the past couple of weeks. But I finally managed to finish a chapter, as you can see—I'm only going to post one today, but I'm hoping to have two ready for next Sunday. (We'll see though—I said that about last week too, didn't I? :)). This week's chapter deals with Rosalie preparing to get married again—some of you have asked for a story about Carlisle and Rosalie at one of Rosalie's weddings, so here it is. :) Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, and if all goes according to plan, I'll see you again with two chapters next Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 193 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! :)

_1961_: Gesture

Rosalie's POV

It was a clear, sunny morning, which irritated Rosalie, because she'd been hoping it would be cloudy—what good was a wedding if the bride couldn't even show her face outside on her wedding day?

"Don't worry," Alice insisted, "it'll be cloudy by the time we leave for the church."

And of course, it was: by ten o'clock, a thick layer of clouds had obscured the sun, and Rosalie was ready to leave the house with Carlisle and Esme. In the past, she'd ridden with Esme alone (though Alice had joined them for her last wedding), but today was different: today, nearly thirty years after he'd changed her, Carlisle was going to give her away at her wedding for the first time.

Rosalie had been more than a little hesitant to ask Carlisle to do this—for her first wedding, Edward had given her away at the altar (which had been irritating, but Rosalie had hated Edward less than she hated Carlisle), and for her second, she'd asked Eleazar to do the honors; he'd been puzzled but willing to play the role of her father that day, and Rosalie had been pleased—Eleazar at least looked like he might actually be old enough to be her father. For her third wedding, the Denalis had been traveling and unable to attend what had admittedly been a wedding that Rosalie had asked Alice to arrange fairly hastily; just a few months after Alice and Jasper were married, in fact. (Seeing someone else in the role of the bride had made Rosalie eager to be the one in the spotlight again). Rosalie had asked Jasper to give her away in that wedding—she hadn't been sure she liked Jasper then, but his fair hair had made him look like he might be a relative. But now, after years of considering the matter, and of Esme's gentle suggestions that it would mean a lot to Carlisle, Rosalie had decided that the man who she'd come to think of as her adopted father should get to play that role in her wedding. Asking him had been surprisingly difficult, however.

Though Rosalie knew that it was ridiculous to wait until the last minute, she'd waited until the night before the wedding to speak to Carlisle about her plan for the next day—on some level, she realized irritably, she didn't want him to have the chance to say no. Rosalie wasn't used to being told 'no,' and Carlisle had always given her everything she'd wanted, other than her human life back, so feeling uncertain about how he'd respond to her request bothered her.

_But what if Esme's wrong_, Rosalie had wondered_, and I took too long to forgive him? What if it's too late to ask him to do this?_

As soon as Carlisle returned with Jasper and Edward from Emmett's bachelor party, Rosalie had accosted him. It wasn't that she'd been afraid that he might say 'no' exactly, or at least that was what she told herself—rather, after ignoring him for so many years, and having only recently come to accept and even enjoy his presence in her life, Rosalie still found it difficult to have conversations with Carlisle that dealt with anything more meaningful than her day at school, her latest auto repair project, or the weather. Small talk had become easy, as had casual requests for shopping money, but the thought of talking to Carlisle about something important had made her edgy.

"May I speak to you for a moment?" Rosalie had said formally, giving Carlisle what she hoped was a serious look and not an angry one; she'd gotten so practiced at giving him angry or indifferent looks over the years that it was hard to form another sort of expression in his presence. Jasper, who clearly felt her nervous irritability, had hurried upstairs without further ado, but Edward had followed more slowly, looking bemused. Emmett had given her an encouraging smile—they'd already talked about this, and Emmett had accepted the idea with his usual enthusiasm. Of course, he didn't have the negative history with Carlisle that she did.

"Yes, Rosalie?" Carlisle had asked when he'd followed her into the living room. To his credit, he didn't look nervous, but Rosalie realized uncomfortably that he was more than used to her angry outbursts by now; he doubtless felt that he had nothing to be nervous about.

"Will you give me away at the wedding tomorrow?" she'd said abruptly, not wanting to have a chance to second guess herself any further. _It was foolish of you to worry about doing this! _Rosalie told herself sternly, but she still found that it took several seconds before she dared to meet Carlisle's eyes. To her relief, he simply looked shocked by the question.

"You—are you sure—is that really what you want, Rosalie?" Carlisle had finally stammered.

"I'm not asking because Esme asked me to, if that's what you mean," Rosalie had said, trying to make her voice chilly and not nervous. "I just—I decided that it was time."

"Well," Carlisle had said slowly, barely concealing how pleased he was that she'd asked. "In that case, I'd be very happy to, Rosalie."

"Good," Rosalie had said quickly. "I mean, thank you."

And after that, Rosalie had hurried away to handle all the last minute details of the wedding. Esme and Alice had had the good sense not to comment on the conversation she'd had with Carlisle, though they'd doubtless heard it. Rosalie felt certain that they were both smiling more than usual though.

Now, it was finally time for the wedding to begin. Alice had helped Esme plan this one, and it was the grandest wedding that Rosalie had ever had, thanks to Esme's knowledge of her personal preferences, and Alice's ability to predict how things would turn out when every element of the day—the dress, the church, the decorations, the guests, and even the weather—came together. Alice stood at the front of the church as a bridesmaid, and Jasper was a few feet away, next to Emmett—it was his turn to be best man. The wedding guests consisted of the Denalis, as well as two of Alice and Jasper's nomadic friends, Peter and Charlotte. Though their numbers were small, Rosalie was pleased; she'd never had this many guests at her previous weddings. Edward was playing the organ, and Rosalie smiled approvingly at his flawless performance as she stood with Carlisle, awaiting their cue to walk down the aisle.

"You look beautiful, Rosalie," Carlisle said.

"Thanks," Rosalie said, trying and failing to maintain her usual mask of indifference. Since she'd stopped hating Carlisle, she'd become uncomfortably aware of how easy it was to love him as much as she loved Esme. He had, in many ways, really become her father.

"And thank you…for all of this," she went on, nodding in the direction of her family and friends in the church and her husband waiting for her at the altar. "I mean, thank you for Emmett, especially—I don't think I can ever thank you enough for him."

"You don't have to," Carlisle said quietly. "You had to lose a lot before you found him, Rosalie."

"What I mean is," Rosalie insisted, plowing onward, "I don't hate everything you've given me, since you gave me this life, Carlisle. And I don't…I don't hate you anymore."

Carlisle didn't say anything at first, but he smiled at her, and he squeezed her hand tightly. "Thank you, Rosalie," he said finally, and Rosalie could tell he was having trouble keeping his voice steady.

As they walked down the aisle together, Rosalie couldn't help but notice Esme's face. Esme nearly always looked cheerful, and weddings were no exception to the rule, but she was practically glowing with pride and happiness today, and Rosalie could guess why: in Esme's eyes, Carlisle had always been Rosalie's adopted father, but today, after decades of waiting, Rosalie was finally acknowledging it too. And Rosalie had to admit that she was happy with the change.

It was a small gesture really, letting him finally give her away like this, but it meant a lot to Esme, and to Carlisle, and Rosalie found herself surprisingly moved as well. It was as if this gesture made it official at last: she and Carlisle were family, and though it had taken her a long time to forgive him for giving her immortality, she could finally admit that she cared about him. It had taken decades, and in retrospect, Rosalie could see how unpleasant it had been for both of them, but as Carlisle placed Rosalie's hand in Emmett's and then turned to go sit with Esme, Rosalie smiled at him. This moment made it feel like all those years had been worth living through.


	149. Rumor

Hi everyone! This week's first chapter deals with what I imagine Carlise's life in Volterra might have been like: essentially, I think that Carlisle would have enjoyed some conversations with the vampires there (those not involving dietary choices), and the Volturi's passion for the arts, sciences, and knowledge in general, but I think that their way of feeding would have disturbed Carlisle a lot. (Maybe while living in Italy, he traveled a bit too, and began to test out his skills as a doctor ). Thanks for your great reviews, and I've got another chapter ready for you after this one.

Also, when you get a chance, please check out the awesome banner that Mackenzie L. made for "Eternity"! You can either look in my profile or go to this address: ht tp(colon) / i1134 (dot) photobucket (dot)com /albums /m603 /mackenzielle /ETERNITYBanner2 (dot) png. Thanks again, Mackenzie!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 186 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1!

_1724_: Rumor

Carlisle's POV

Carlisle was in the library, looking at a badly drawn map of North America and trying not to remember the last time he'd visited the Volturi's impressive library, a huge hall of books secreted deep beneath the city of Volterra. When he'd been here last, Aro, who was prepared to go to great lengths to satisfy his curiosity (and Aro was _always_ curious), had had a dead human brought to the library, the corpse still full of blood (Carlisle had no idea how many humans that the guard who'd carried the man in must have had to drain before he was sated enough to kill a human but resist his blood), and then Aro had watched as Carlisle had tried and failed to resuscitate the dead man.

"You've been working so hard, friend," Aro had said with a smile as Carlisle listened in vain for any sign of a heartbeat or pulse. "I thought that you might like to take a break from your studies and enjoy a snack."

"This isn't funny, Aro," Carlisle had said through clenched teeth, though he'd been relieved to discover that it was far easier to suppress his thirst than it was to control his rage. Sometimes, Aro could seem like he was almost a friend—but to do something like this when he knew how Carlisle felt about taking human lives was unforgivable. Carlisle had known then that he and Aro could never really be friends again…assuming they ever had been to begin with.

Aro had been amused by his efforts to help the human, who was clearly dead, and Carlisle had been angry that Aro had had a man killed just to test him, which had only amused Aro more. After that, Carlisle had left Volterra for a while—he hardly felt that he had any right to call himself a doctor yet, but a plague was ravaging Italy and much of Europe, and Carlisle was happy to be able to help the few humans he found who weren't beyond help yet. And he'd saved many lives, usually through the application of simple first aid, or in many cases just by bringing food or water to humans who were too week and sick to do so themselves.

Now he was back in Volterra again, eager to study all he could about the new world before making a journey there himself. When he finished his examination of the poorly drawn map, Carlisle sighed. Every atlas seemed to show North America as having different proportions, but no matter. He would be there soon, and he would just have to discover the lay of the land on his own.

Carlisle left the library and went looking for Aro, who'd asked to speak with him when he'd finished his studies for the day. Despite his inhumanity and capacity for cruelty, Carlisle couldn't help but be impressed by Aro at times: he was simply so old that

Aro, Caius and Marcus were making their way to the throne room, Renata shadowing Aro as always. Carlisle guessed that since they had no punishments to mete out today, a meal would be arriving for them soon, and he tried not shudder. Volterra was a fascinating place, but the longer he stayed there, the harder it was to overlook the savagery that lurked just beneath the city's cultured façade.

Marcus took his seat immediately and stared off into space, looking as uninterested in his surroundings as usual. Aro and Caius remained standing, and the guard stood around them, speaking softly while they waited for their prey to arrive.

"There have been some strange rumors circulating of late," Caius said suddenly, his voice cool, glancing at the grate in the floor as though hoping for his next meal to materialize from it. Carlisle always shuddered a little at the sight of that grate: after the Volturi had dispatched their latest victims, the grate was lifted, and their bodies were deposited below. The remains of hundreds of years of humans brought to the city to slake the thirst of its masters rested there.

"What rumors?" Carlisle asked, trying to sound casual.

Aro rolled his eyes. "Heidi's been listening to the whispers of peasants again—never a very accurate source of information. She'll arrive in a few minutes with our meal and more wild stories from the countryside, of that I have no doubt."

"Nonetheless, the rumors are intriguing," Caius went on. His voice was as smooth and chilly as ever, but there was an undercurrent of anger there that worried Carlisle. "Humans in the surrounding countryside have apparently concocted a new legend concerning our kind. They call him Stegoni benefici, and they say he is a vampire who has been saving human lives. They believe he is immortal because of his fair skin and hair, and of course because he has tended to so many stricken humans without succumbing to illness himself."

Carlisle shrugged, carefully keeping his expression one of polite interest, but he was concerned. He wasn't worried about himself so much as the humans he'd helped; if they were even speculating that he might be a vampire, then they were in terrible danger.

Aro, to Carlisle's relief, seemed more amused that upset or astonished by the story. "Really, brother, stories like these are started every time there's a plague—in this case, some foolish human with delusions of sainthood probably did care for some of the sick. If he was pale when they saw him, he's probably dead himself by now, but now the story of his exploits is spreading, and since people don't want to believe his dead—humans do rely on false hope so much—they're saying he's immortal now. Whoever he was, if he ever existed, I daresay he's no threat to us now."

"Hmm," Caius said skeptically, glancing at Carlisle, who met his eyes calmly. "And if Stegoni benefici really turned out to be a vampire? What would we do then, Aro?"

"Let the rumor spread, of course," Aro said cheerfully. "It's in our best interest to have humans thinking that there are at least some vampires who don't want to do them harm. If our prey starts to think that some of us are benign, then that makes for easier hunting, don't you think?"

Carlisle resisted the urge to groan—Aro was right, of course. If any of the humans he'd helped in the past few weeks ever encountered a vampire again, then it was possible they might approach the vampire, as opposed to obeying the usual human instinct of avoiding immortals.

Caius nodded and smiled very slightly, satisfied by Aro's rationalization. "You're quite right, brother. That is an excellent point."

"Stegoni benefici," Aro mused, glancing at Carlisle will ill-concealed mirth. When Caius wasn't looking, he actually winked. "Yes, I'd say that he's doing us a favor, really. If he exists, which I doubt—it's certainly a difficult story to believe."

Caius shrugged, bored with the conversation now that it was clear that no one was going to be punished for the rumor Heidi had heard.

"Yes, it's hard to believe," Carlisle said quietly, since Aro was looking at him expectantly.

Aro shrugged, still looking very pleased with Caius's amusing story. "What will humans dream up next?"

Carlisle tried not to sigh. Soon, he would be leaving Volterra behind him. He would miss the library, and the many fascinating conversations he'd had with immortals hundreds of years his senior, but he would never miss this cavalier disregard for human life.

_When I practice medicine in America, I'll do so as a proper doctor,_ Carlisle told himself. _I'll live and work among humans, and I won't give anyone any reason to start rumors like this Stregoni benefici business. Then the humans I treat will be safe. They'll be far beyond Aro's reach, anyway._

Of course, no one was ever really out of the Volturi's reach—there was probably nowhere on earth where a human or vampire could go where Demetri wouldn't find them. Still, America was far enough away that Carlisle hoped that any rumors he inspired there would remain rumors, harmless to him and to the humans who spread them.

"Ah," Aro said cheerfully. "I hear our meal coming. Would you care to join us, old friend?"

"No thank you, Aro," Carlisle said cooly. He hurried out of the room before the slaughter could begin; perhaps the Volturi's way of feeding really was a necessary evil, as Aro insisted (though he didn't use the word 'evil'), but Carlisle was tired of living in the presence of violence that he could do nothing to stop. His time in Volterra had been enlightening, and he'd learned a great deal from the Italian coven. But soon, he would be leaving, for what he hoped would be a more peaceful, and perhaps less lonely existence in the United States. He wondered how long the story of Stregoni benefici would follow him, but Carlisle decided that the Volturi had more important concerns than his fondness for saving human lives. _After all, _Carlisle thought with a wry smile, _Stregoni benefici is, as Aro said, only a rumor._


	150. Curious

Hi again! Today's second chapter deals with Alice's curiosity about her niece; I feel like as soon as all the drama of the events of "Breaking Dawn" had died down, Alice would have had more leisure to dwell on her forgotten human life, and Alice being Alice, I think that eventually, she'd get so curious that she'd want to see her niece in person. I imagine that Jasper might be less than thrilled with this idea though, so instead of going with him, she might make the trip with Bella and Esme…:) Thanks as always for your really and truly wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and 186 days still seems like a really long time (though "Breaking Dawn" is getting closer every day…:)).

_2007_: Curious

Alice's POV

"Are you sure about this, Alice?" Bella asked for the third time that day. "I mean, are you really telling the truth when you say that you just want to see her, and that you won't decide to introduce yourself?"

"Yes, I'm sure, and yes, I'm really telling the truth," Alice said patiently. "Of course I'll be tempted to speak to her, but that wouldn't be very safe for her, now would it? As long as I keep thinking that, I see myself resisting the temptation to knock on her door."

"But what if you stop thinking that?" Bella persisted uneasily. "I mean, I can't really talk about secrecy, what with Charlie, but like you said, doing this could put her in danger."

"Bella's right, Alice," Esme said quietly. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Yes, because if I don't, I'm always going to wonder about her!" Alice said firmly. "Ever since I found out that she existed, I've wanted to find out more about her. I know where she works, I know where she lives, but really, all I want to do is see her, just once. Then my curiosity will be satisfied."

"Right," Bella muttered skeptically, but she and Esme both looked resigned to the inevitable as they sat in the silver rental car, staring at the apartment building they had parked a few yards away from. They had flown from Seattle to Pittsburgh earlier that day, rented a car, and now they were sitting in front of a nondescript apartment building in downtown Pittsburgh. Alice glanced up at the building again; her niece would be getting home from work soon, Alice had had a vision of her walking down this very street just as the sun was setting, and sunset was only a few minutes away now. Of course Alice had already seen her niece's face in visions, and she had done a lot of research about her online, but seeing her in person would be something completely different. For the first time in over eighty years, Alice was going to see a member of her human family.

"Thanks again for coming here with me, you two," Alice said sincerely. "I knew Jasper wouldn't come if I told him what I had planned, but when he finds out that both of you were here to keep an eye on me, he won't worry so much if I want to check up on her in the future."

"Alice…" Esme sighed, but she didn't say anything else, and Alice grinned. She and Esme both knew that if she wanted to come back again, she was going to, regardless of what the rest of the family thought. After so many decades of not knowing anything about the person she'd once been, Alice was excited to finally have a tangible link to her human life.

Just then, Alice spotted a woman walking down the street. She was pretty, and looked younger than her sixty-five years, with shoulder length gray hair, and blue eyes that Alice wished she could say were familiar.

"That's her," Alice said quietly, nodding at the woman. Her name was Suzanne, and Alice wondered if she looked like her mother, Cynthia. Alice imagined that Suzanne's face even vaguely resembled her own—the angle of her nose and the shape of her cheekbones were similar, though Alice wondered if she was only seeing what she wanted to see.

"Maybe that's what I would have looked like, if I'd lived to be sixty," Alice said thoughtfully, and she felt Esme pat her hand, gently. Alice didn't feel the way the others did about her human life: she missed it in a way, but more than anything, the mystery of it fascinated her. It bothered Alice that she couldn't remember anything at all about that life, so rather than feeling sad at the thought of being human, she tended to feel a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

Alice hadn't planned to do it; she really had come all this way intending to do the right thing and see her niece without letting Suzanne see her, thereby keeping her safe. But now that she was so close to the woman she'd been thinking about for months now, it was impossible to resist the urge speak to her; anyway, it wasn't as though she would ever guess what Alice really was. So, before Esme or Bella had the chance to stop her, Alice opened her door, hopped out of the car, and went to speak to her niece. Normally, Alice would have felt bad about lying to Bella or Esme, but she hadn't technically been lying: Alice hadn't planned to do this, so she caught a glimpse of a vision of the meeting that was about to occur almost at the same time that the meeting itself began.

"Hi!" Alice said, coming up behind Suzanne suddenly as she prepared to unlock the door to her apartment. The older woman jumped, then turned to look at Alice. Her nervous expression immediately changed to one of relief when she saw who had spoken to her—Alice didn't look like a mugger.

"Sorry for startling you," Alice said, smiling apologetically, all the while examining Suzanne's face carefully. "I'm from out of town, and I was just wondering if you could tell me where the Strip district is—I heard there are a lot of good restaurants there."

"Oh, yes," Suzanne said, visibly relaxed now. "You're only a few blocks away. Do you know where the convention center is?"

"That big silver building, right?" Alice said. _I'm talking to my niece!_ she thought gleefully.

"That's the one," Suzanne said, smiling. "Just go past it on the river side, make a left at the light, and drive for two or three blocks. You can park on the street there, and then the Strip is a block over."

"Thanks!" Alice said happily. "My friends and I are starving. Do you have a favorite restaurant there?"

Suzanne looked thoughtful. "My stepson and I always go to Wholey's, but my stepdaughter doesn't like fish, so you might try the Italian place if you're not into seafood."

"Thanks!" Alice said again—it would be too strange to say "thank you for existing." "Have a good night!"

"You too!" Suzanne called as Alice hopped back in the car—maybe she was used to being accosted by tourists, or maybe she was just naturally friendly. Either way, Alice was glad to see that her niece hadn't been unduly disturbed by the encounter; she couldn't see anything dangerous resulting from their brief meeting, but only time would tell if it would be safe to meet her again.

When she returned to the car, Bella and Esme looked more exasperated than mad.

"I honestly wasn't planning to do that!" Alice said innocently as Esme shook her head and started the car.

"So, are you happy now?" Bella asked, and Alice grinned in response.

"Very. Come on, I had to talk to her! As soon as I saw her, I could see how ridiculous it was to come all this way and spend so much time wondering about her if I wasn't going to speak to her at least for a minute."

"So, she lives in that apartment," Esme said, glancing back at the building with an approving expression; the architectural style obviously appealed to her. Alice tried to stop grinning, but failed. She was glad to see curiosity beginning to take the place of annoyance in Esme. "Is she married?"

"She was, but he died of a heart attack a few years ago, right before he was going to retire," Alice said, frowning. "Suzanne never had kids, but her husband did with his first wife. They had a house out in the suburbs, but when her husband died, Suzanne moved to the city to be closer to her stepchildren. They're both married with kids now, so she babysits a lot when she doesn't have to work. She works as a receptionist at a hotel, and she may or may not go out on a date with one of her coworkers in the near future. She's still trying to decide."

Bella smiled reluctantly. "You really did your research, huh? In addition to employing your vast psychic powers, I mean."

"Yup, but meeting her was much more interesting," Alice said. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "Have you ever wanted to find any of your human relatives, Esme?"

Esme looked slightly surprised. "Honestly, it never occurred to me to try. I wasn't very close to my parents, and I never saw them again after they refused to help me with Charles. I didn't have any siblings, and I never saw my cousins much, so any family I'd have left by now would be very distantly related."

Alice smiled at the implication of Esme's words: what seemed so fascinating to Alice didn't interest Esme much at all. Carlisle, their adopted children, Bella, Nessie, and Jacob and his pack were all the family Esme needed.

Bella looked a little sad when she heard Esme's description of her family, and Alice tried not to imagine how hard it was going to be for Bella to watch her parents age and eventually die. At times like this, Alice couldn't help but feel a little relieved that she'd forgotten her human life. If she could remember what she'd lost, it would be that much harder to live without it.

"So," Esme said briskly, giving Alice a look. "Are you ready to go home now?"

"I'm ready," Alice said cheerfully. "I did what I needed to. Now I won't need to come back and bother her again."

"But you probably will anyway," Bella pointed out, "won't you?"

Alice smiled mischievously. "Well, I'll _try_ to be good, but we'll see." _It would be so much fun to come here for college for a few years,_ Alice thought, already imagining the scene as it might play out. _Jasper and I could get an apartment near here, and I could _accidentally_ run into Suzanne sometimes…_

"You know what they say about curiosity," Esme said gently, steering the car back toward the freeway—Alice could see that they would catch a flight and be home soon after midnight.

"Yup," Alice said, still smiling as she said what she often did when a family member commented on her curious nature. "It's a lot of fun to be curious."


	151. Tomorrow

Hi everyone! Sorry for updating a day late and for only having one chapter ready for you this week, but I have a better than usual excuse: I've been working on a book. It's something I started a few years ago, and since I'm looking for a job right now, I thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to finally finish it. The book is called "How I Almost Killed All My Brothers and Sisters" and it's close to finished now. I'm going to be publishing it through Kindle, hopefully sometime in the next week, so it'll only cost 99 cents. And don't worry if you don't have a Kindle—you can download the Kindle app for free onto any computer. (Sorry, there are no sexy vampires in the book :)). If you have the chance, please check it out! (I'll let you know on Sunday if the book is ready for sale then :)). Thanks as always for your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday! (I have two fun Carlisle and Esme chapters planned for next week :)).

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 178 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! :) (Also, Volume 2 of the "Twilight Graphic Novel" will be coming out on October 11th! Yay! :))

_1935_: Tomorrow

Emmett's POV

It was a few minutes after sunrise when Emmett found himself standing in the woods just a few yards from his family's house, Edward beside him. The trees obscured the light of the rising sun as Emmett, being careful not to breathe, dashed to the front door, dropped the bag of money on the doorstep, knocked on the door, and then ran back to the woods. His throat was burning, but he suppressed the urge to breathe in the tantalizing scent of human as his mother, who'd probably been making breakfast, came to the front door and discovered the cloth bag Emmett had left. He watched her as she read the brief note he'd attached to the bag, written by Edward in his neat script:

_To the McCarty family:_

_I was sorry to hear about the recent loss of your son Emmett. Please accept this gift and my condolences. _

_Sincerely yours, _

_A friend_

Emmett watched his mother's surprised expression turn to one of total shock when she finished reading the note and looked inside the bag: it contained thousands of dollars in cash, probably more money than she'd ever seen in her life. And now it belonged to the McCartys. Emmett grinned as he watched her run inside, shouting for the rest of the family. Then Edward tapped his shoulder, and they started running toward home before the sun could rise any higher.

"Thanks again for doing this, Edward," Emmett said abruptly as they ran. He'd been a Cullen for only a few weeks now, and his new family still surprised him on an almost daily basis. The way they viewed money was the thing that Emmett found hardest to get used to; he hadn't been poor, but growing up, his family hadn't been rich by any means. It amazed Emmett that Edward thought nothing of giving Emmett a huge sum of money to give to his human family.

Edward shrugged. "I know how much you've been worrying about them, Emmett. It was no trouble."

Emmett shook his head. "I just can't get over the way you guys are about money. Carlisle and Esme are the same way—it's like no matter how much you spend, you'll never run out. When I was human, making money last was something I always had to worry about."

"Carlisle's been working and saving money since the end of the seventeenth century," Edward pointed out. "Even with Rosalie's love of shopping sprees, we probably never will run out. I can see what you mean though. It isn't as though our kind need money to survive, so we tend to see earning it as more of a hobby than a necessity."

Emmett smiled. "What I really mean is, it's still a little strange to have people I barely know yet spend so much money on my behalf. In my first week with you guys, Esme bought me more clothes than I ever had as a human, and Carlisle bought me what looked like half a library of books to read while I'm learning to handle my thirst. Speaking of which…"

Emmett veered away from Edward and ran a few hundred yards to the west and tackled a deer—it didn't taste very good, but it eased the burn in his throat, and helped him to stop thinking about his mother's scent.

Edward, who had followed him, chuckled as he buried the remains of the deer a few minutes later. "I've been thinking about what you just said. As a human, I was an only child, and my family was well off. So was Rosalie's, so I suppose we've never given much thought to how much Carlisle and Esme dote on us."

"But this morning, I gave away _your_ money," Emmett pointed out. _More money than I ever could have made for my family in my entire life as a human,_ he thought. "I'm sure my family's going to be grateful for it, so really, thanks again."

Edward smiled. "I'm glad I could help, Emmett. I'm enjoying having you for a brother, and Carlisle and Esme are happy to have another son too. And…even Rosalie's mood has improved since she found you. So you don't have to thank me for doing this."

That was just it though—Emmett often felt that he could never thank the Cullens enough for everything they'd done for him: Rosalie, and then Carlisle had saved his life, and along with Edward and Esme, the whole family had given him an amazing new life that he never could have imagined. Hearing Edward's implication that even Rosalie was happier with him around was especially thrilling. But saying all that would have been too sappy, so Emmett laughed instead.

"Okay, I'll stop thanking you for now. I guess I'm never going to have to be frugal again, now that I've got a rich older brother looking out for me."

Edward rolled his eyes. "You were twenty when Carlisle changed you, and I was seventeen, so aren't you technically the older brother here?"

"Definitely not," Emmett said firmly. "I was born in 1915, you were born in 1901. That makes you 34 and me 20. When I look at it that way, I should let you give me money more often."

Edward chuckled, and they ran in silence after that. Emmett knew that Edward could hear his thoughts, so he tried not to think about Rosalie, but it was hard to stop thinking of her once he started. He wanted to ask Edward how to get closer to her—Emmett and Rosalie already spent hours talking every day, they hunted, went for walks, and sat together and tried to read one of the innumerable books in the house (though Emmett was usually too distracted by her presence to actually read), but Emmett wanted to tell her how he felt about her, and he had no idea how. Of course, the fact that Edward and Rosalie didn't exactly get along, and because Edward, by his own admission, had never had a girlfriend, Emmett was reluctant to ask him for assistance; Edward seemed equally hesitant to give any romantic advice that could backfire, so neither of them brought up the subject.

An hour later, they were home again. It was light outside now, but Carlisle and Esme were sitting in the shade of the front porch together, holding hands and clearly waiting for Edward and Emmett to return.

"Did everything go all right, boys?" Esme asked.

"I managed not to kill anyone, so yeah, I think things went pretty well," Emmett said. He saw Edward roll his eyes at that comment, but Emmett was feeling so relieved that he hadn't hurt anyone—his mother especially—that it seemed natural to make light of what had seemed like a very risky journey just a few hours before.

"Emmett keeps trying to thank me for funding today's adventure," Edward said, shaking his head, "while I keep trying to explain that money isn't a big deal to us."

"It's true, Emmett," Carlisle said, squeezing Esme's shoulder fondly as he stood up. "The longer you're immortal, the less money seems to matter. Honestly, I'd be happy to do my job for free if doing so wouldn't attract too much attention."

"Are you going to call the hospital?" Esme said, a hopeful note in her voice.

Carlisle grinned. "Yes. It's far too sunny to go anywhere today, and it's been a while since I took a day off anyway."

"Rosalie's on the back porch," Esme said just as Emmett turned to her and opened his mouth to ask. "Why don't you take a book back there and join her? It smells like there might be some rain coming, so you can probably go for a walk later too, if you'd like."

"Thanks, Esme," Emmett said, smiling gratefully. Esme always seemed to know when Rosalie wanted company and when she wanted to be left alone, though Emmett was pleased to note that Rosalie's desire for solitude never seemed to include him. He raced upstairs to his room, grabbed a book off the dresser without looking at the title, then ran downstairs and out the back door.

Rosalie was sitting on the back porch, reading, but she looked up from her book and smiled radiantly as soon as she saw him. Emmett grinned in response, wondering how she could keep smiling at him when he was sure that he was grinning like an idiot.

"I heard you come back. I'm glad things went well with the visit to your family."

Emmett shrugged and sat down next to her. "I was glad that I didn't see anyone other than my mother. Just her scent was bad enough, and the faint smells of everyone around the house were hard to resist."

Rosalie nodded. "It's hard to be near humans as a newborn, especially the first few weeks. I didn't go to see my family until right before we left Rochester, because I was so afraid of slipping. Just seeing them was hard though, knowing that I couldn't speak to them."

Emmett nodded. "I probably won't go back again. It was good to feel like I was helping them a little, but I also felt like the farther I am from them, the safer they'll be."

Rosalie smiled sadly. "You're right. As much as our families might miss us now, they're really better off without us."

As they sat together, each of them pretending to read their respective books (at least, Emmett was pretending, and he suspected that Rosalie was too), Emmett thought about how much he already loved Rosalie, though he still didn't dare tell her just yet. Every time she smiled at him, he got completely tongue-tied, and yet somehow she seemed to find his speechlessness endearing instead of weird or creepy. Their human lives had been so different that in life, they probably never would have met, but here and now, as immortals, they were already friends, on the edge of becoming something more.

After everything Rosalie had lost, to say nothing of the fact that she'd saved his life, Emmett wanted desperately to give Rosalie the kind of happy life that Carlisle had given Esme. To do that, he knew that he would need a lot of help from his newfound family, and he would need to find the nerve it would take to tell someone as beautiful and amazing as Rosalie that he loved her. Emmett tried not to sigh—in the shade of the porch, he looked out at the sunny morning and wondered if today would be the day he told her—he guessed that it wouldn't be. Inside the house, he heard Edward at the piano, and Carlisle and Esme laughing together, probably dancing to whatever song Edward was playing. It was just an ordinary day.

Emmett hoped that when the day came to tell Rosalie how he felt, he would feel it, that it would somehow be special enough to tell Rosalie something so important. In the meantime though, Emmett was determined to do the best he could in this new life. He hoped that the money he'd taken to his human family today would be enough to get them through the winter ahead, as well as a future when he wouldn't be around to help earn money or put food on the table. With the Cullens, Emmett hoped that he would continue to make all of his immortal family happier, especially Rosalie. Rosalie…who was sitting just a few feet away from him, but who seemed so far away whenever he thought of trying to tell her he loved her. Listening to Carlisle and Esme talking inside gave him hope though.

_We can have that kind of life too_, he told himself firmly, glancing at Rosalie out of the corner of his eye. _All I have to do is tell her…_

Emmett opened his mouth to speak, but as usual, nothing came out when he tried to put everything he felt for Rosalie into words. After silently struggling for several minutes, Emmett shut his mouth again, grinning ruefully.

_Maybe tomorrow I'll tell her,_ he thought, hoping that tomorrow really would be the day he did.


	152. Normal

Hi everyone! I've got two chapters for you this week—this first one is a bit gory, in the sense that it talks about human dissection. I've been listening to Mary Roach's book, "Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers," which got me to thinking about what it might be like for Carlisle to teach an anatomy class. Thanks as always for your truly, truly wonderful reviews, and look for one more chapter after this one!

On another note, my book is finally finished! You can buy it now at Amazon for 99 cents. It's called "How I Almost Killed All My Brothers and Sisters," and I'd love it if you could check it out. :) (I'm addicted to pen names, thus the various names attached to the book). I'll be putting a link in my profile later tonight, but you can also just go to Amazon and search for the title. If you get the chance to read it, let me know if you have any questions or comments about the book. Thanks! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 172 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! :)

_1982_: Normal

Carlisle's POV

"All right, now that we've gone through the basics of preparing for a dissection, I'm going to show you the kind of thing that you'll be looking for in your own cadavers this semester," Carlisle said, uncovering the chest of the corpse that he'd prepared earlier for use with that day's anatomy class. For beginning anatomy students like these, Carlisle tended to keep the faces of cadavers covered at first; students seemed to be less disturbed that way.

"This man was involved in a fatal car accident several days ago, and though his chest cavity was intact at the time of death, the impact of the crash killed him. Can anyone tell me how that happened?"

Several seconds of uncertain silence passed before a student with glasses raised her hand.

"Yes, Kelly?" Carlisle said, nodding at her.

"The aorta," Kelly said, glancing at the cadaver with what Carlisle guessed was her attempt at a nonchalant expression. "The impact must have ruptured it."

"That's exactly what happened," Carlisle said, nodding. He was wearing rubber gloves, and now he pointed out the relevant parts of the cadaver's chest cavity as he explained, "the aorta is very thick, but it's at a bit of a disadvantage when you consider that the heart is attached to it. This means that every other second, as the heart beats, it puts weight on the aorta. The average human heart only weighs about a pound, but in a car crash, that weight is moved so suddenly and violently that it can strain the aorta to the point that it ruptures. Most modern cars are designed to minimize the risk of this happening in the event of a crash, but our cadaver here was driving a vintage car without seatbelts. Now, let's take a look at the lungs…"

It was early evening, and Carlisle was performing a simple dissection to demonstrate what each person in the class would be doing once they were issued their own cadavers. This semester, in addition to working at the hospital, he'd begun teaching anatomy at a fairly prestigious medical school—prestigious enough that after this semester, Carlisle knew that he and the rest of the family were going to have to relocate again. Just teaching for one semester was conspicuous enough, but if he stayed and continued teaching, his reputation would only grow.

The semester had barely begun, and Carlisle was already hearing whispers from students about the new anatomy professor, Dr. Cullen, who was so young and handsome. Listening to these things always made Carlisle want to sigh; never mind that he was spoken for (and had been for decades), he was over three hundred years old. And even if he weren't actually old, Carlisle felt that it was impossible to feel anything but ancient when part of his job description involved performing human dissections. It was always such a strange thing to cut up a human body, even if it was done in the name of educating future doctors.

Student reactions to human dissection were always mixed; the majority pretended that they found nothing strange or uncomfortable about dissection, and though they sometimes made jokes at the expense of their cadavers, Carlisle had rarely felt the need to reprimand students in past classes—joking like that, rather than being mean-spirited, was just a way of coping with the inevitably (and what seemed to young people the impossibility) of death. Carlisle sometimes wondered if that was why he felt so strange when teaching anatomy—that technically, he was a corpse himself, kept moving and conscious by whatever mysterious property it was in the venom of a vampire that had made him immortal. Though of course the dead couldn't feel pain, cutting up what Carlisle sometimes thought of as a fellow corpse filled him with a strange mix of regret and fascination—after all, medicine had come a long way since he'd first studied it in the 18th century, and many of those advances were thanks to discoveries made through human dissection. On the whole, dissecting a human body was always as interesting as it was troubling.

Still, Carlisle was enjoying teaching, as he always did—he enjoyed the enthusiasm of his students, their eagerness to learn, and he pitied their naiveté. After centuries of working in medicine, he was still shocked at times by things he saw in the emergency room, and his students, most of them cheerful, outgoing young people who'd wanted to be doctors since childhood, would be getting a rude awakening when they saw firsthand that they wouldn't be able to save every life or even help every patient as much as they hoped too. Perhaps they already knew that on an intellectual level, but when they started working with patients, they would begin to really understand that medicine involved a lot more than glory or heroics or the high salary they might have imagined. A big part of being a doctor was doing hard, thankless work, and trying to help people even when they were beyond your help. Still, Carlisle loved his work, and it pleased him to think that many of his students would one day come to love it too, difficult as it was.

After Carlisle had shown the class how to clean the tools and workspace they'd used following a dissection, they were dismissed, and someone from the medical school morgue came to get the cadaver. Carlisle remained behind in case anyone had any questions for him, and as was usually the case, several students stayed behind to chat—none of them had any actual questions, but some of the girls wanted to flirt, some of the boys wanted to know how long it had taken him to get his degree, and all of them wanted to hear stories about working in an emergency room. Carlisle did his best to satisfy their curiosity when it came to ER work, and finally, after nearly thirty minutes, the group of students left, one of them declaring that the sight of all the cadaver's viscera had made him hungry. Carlisle shook his head and smiled, preparing to leave himself, but then he heard a quiet knock on the door.

"Dr. Cullen?" a voice said uncertainly. "Can I ask you something real quick?"

"Of course, come in, David," Carlisle said, picking up the notes he'd left on a lab table and putting them in his briefcase. "I'm sorry you had to wait so long to talk to me."

David, who was a short, skinny young man with red hair and freckles, smiled sheepishly. "I was going to come in, but everyone else sounded like they were in such a good mood that I didn't want to depress them."

"So, what's your question?" Carlisle said, smiling easily—he could guess what David was going to ask him from the way that the boy glanced nervously at the place where the cadaver had rested earlier that evening.

"I was just…stop me if this sounds stupid, but does human dissection ever get…easy? I mean, not easy exactly, but does it ever stop being weird? Does it ever feel…normal? Sorry, I'm not explaining this very well…"

"No, I know exactly what you mean, actually," Carlisle said, his smile fading slightly. "I suppose the best answer I can give you is yes, and no. It never gets easy exactly, but the more you do dissections, the better you learn to cope with them. I've done more than I care to think about, and on an intellectual level, it doesn't bother me anymore, and it hasn't for a long time. But on an emotional level…well, I think it's always a little disconcerting. You learn to push your discomfort to the back of your mind, but it's impossible not to wonder about the person that the cadaver used to be—"

"And how you'll be that way someday," David said quietly.

Carlisle said nothing, though he had to stifle a smile when he imagined David's reaction if he were to explain that, having no pulse or heartbeat, he was technically a corpse already.

"It's perfectly normal to be uncomfortable about it," Carlisle went on gently. "At first, everyone is. I suspect your classmates feel basically the same way you do right now—but rather than admitting it, they're pretending that nothing's wrong, that they don't feel strange at the thought of cutting up what used to be a person. There's no question that it's a unique experience. In some ways, it's invaluable preparation for performing surgery someday, because your inexperience can't hurt the dead, and if you make a mistake, then there's no problem. But it definitely takes some getting used to."

"I guess dissection's better than it used to be, anyway," David said. "I mean, I read once that for anatomy classes in the nineteenth century, doctors would pay people for bodies for dissection studies. I guess it was good money, because people would actually rob graves to get corpses to sell to anatomy labs!"

Carlisle nodded. "That's true. At least our cadavers today are here because people elect to will their bodies to science. Dissections are an inescapable part of my job description, but I'm grateful that grave robbing isn't."

Carlisle had taken few anatomy classes in the nineteenth century for the very reason that David had described: doctors had been perpetually desperate for corpses to teach their students with, to the point that they would sometimes requisition the bodies of neighbors or even family members for the purpose of dissection. It had been a chilling practice that had petered out over the course of the early twentieth century, but Carlisle grudgingly admitted that it had in some ways been a necessary evil. Over the course of human history, how many thousands, even millions of doctors had learned about human anatomy with the aid of stolen corpses?

David said goodbye a few minutes later, and Carlisle was glad to see that he seemed relieved that his feelings about dissection weren't unusual. For his part, Carlisle felt grateful that he'd apparently retained enough of his humanity to still feel something whenever he did a dissection. Though corpses couldn't feel pain, and they were essentially objects, not people, Carlisle could never forget that they had been people once, and he hoped that he could teach his current anatomy students to treat dissection cadavers as respectfully as possible.

Carlisle put on his coat, picked up his briefcase, and took the elevator down to the lobby. After dropping him off at work, Esme had borrowed his car for the day to do some shopping. Now she was here at the medical building, waiting to take him home. Carlisle waved to her and crossed the shadowy parking lot quickly—it had been a long day, and Carlisle often wondered how human doctors (who required sleep and food on a daily basis to survive) could stand the long hours.

Esme smiled at him as he got into the car and kissed her.

"Hi," he said, dazzled as he always was to see her waiting for him, looking as happy to see him as he was to see her.

"Hi," she said, smiling too. "How was your day?"

Carlisle shrugged and smiled. "My shift at the hospital was uneventful—I actually had time to finish that Stephen King book Emmett lent me during my lunch break. Then I walked over here for class. It was human dissection day, so I had to cut up a cadaver, talk to some students who pretended they weren't at all disturbed by the process, and just a few minutes ago, I discussed mortality with a student and pretended that I didn't have firsthand knowledge of the shady practices of nineteenth century anatomists."

"Just a normal day, then," Esme said. They both laughed, and Carlisle put his arm around her as she drove them home.


	153. Confidence

Hi again! Today's second chapter is a reader request: some of you wanted to know about the conversation that Carlisle and Esme had (it's mentioned in Chapter 143: Implications) where Esme expresses her confidence regarding the future of Edward and Bella's relationship, in spite of all the inherent dangers, so here it is! Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! (P.S. I'm hoping to finally correct some things that "The Official Illustrated Guide" gave me more info on, so stay tuned for some updates to older chapters, hopefully within the next couple of weeks :)).

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't wait to get volume two of the Twilight Graphic Novel! (Only a few more months to go—October isn't really so far away… :)).

_2005_: Confidence

Esme's POV

When Carlisle first called her from the hospital in Phoenix, Esme was terribly afraid. Even if Bella made a perfect recovery, after everything she'd been through, would she ever want to see Edward again? What if James' attack had proven to Bella once and for all that she was in danger every moment that she was in the presence of a vampire?

But then, a week or so after she returned to Forks, Bella came over to the house with Edward. Her leg was encased in a heavy walking cast, there were still a few almost-healed scratches visible on her face and arms, but otherwise, she seemed healthy, and her expression was as happy as it always was when Esme saw her standing next to Edward. Edward looked happy too, but a week after James' assault, he still seemed wary, as if he worried that another attack on Bella could come at any moment.

"Hi," Bella said shyly when Edward led her into the living room. Esme, too relieved to contain herself, moved at inhuman speed to Bella's side and embraced her.

"How are you, honey?" Esme asked. "Oh, it's so good to see you!"

"I'm fine," Bella said with a smile—she'd probably been interrogated about her general health and wellbeing a lot lately. "And it's good to see you too, Esme."

"Would you like anything to eat?" Esme asked. "Just say the word if you'd like me to make you something."

"I'm fine for now, but thanks," Bella said as Edward took her hand and pulled her gently toward the stairs.

_All right, all right, I can see that you want to have Bella all to yourself_, Esme said, grinning at him. Edward rolled his eyes at her, but he smiled too, and Esme knew she was right. Since their return from Phoenix, he'd spent nearly every moment with Bella, and Esme knew that Edward was dreading the day when he would be forced to leave her side long enough to hunt. For now though, they were together, and happy, and seeing them that way made Esme feel elated. If Edward and Bella could make it through this, then Esme was confident that they could make it through anything.

Carlisle came home a few minutes later, and as soon as he'd closed the front door behind him, Esme grabbed him by the collar and kissed him, glad that Edward and Bella were the only other people in the house and that they were probably too caught up in each other's company to come downstairs anytime soon. Carlisle returned her kiss enthusiastically, but she pulled away when she felt him laughing against her mouth.

"It's nice to see you too," he said, looking both pleased and amused.

"What?" Esme said playfully. "Do I need an excuse to attack you as soon as you get home?"

"No, you're more than welcome to attack me any time," Carlisle said, scooping her up and carrying her to the couch. He slipped off his shoes and lay down, Esme still in his arms, and she curled up on top of him, smiling. They kissed again, but it was Esme's turn to pull away when she felt Carlisle slide one hand up her leg and another under her shirt.

"I should probably mention that Bella's here," Esme said, sitting up and smiling apologetically. "Sorry for seducing you before I told you that."

Carlisle chuckled. "I thought I smelled her when I came in. Well, I suppose Edward would prefer not to discover us undressing each other on the couch while he has a guest."

"He would prefer to never discover us that way," Esme said, laughing, and as she slid off his chest and onto the couch so he could sit up, Carlisle took her hand and kissed it. Then he released her, though it was clear by the way he kept staring at her that he was making a concerted effort not to grab her again.

"So, how long has she been here?"

"Not long," Esme said, listening to the faint sounds of conversation coming from Edward's room. "They got here just a few minutes before you did."

"No wonder you're in such a good mood," Carlisle said, glancing up at the ceiling. "I thought you'd feel better as soon as you saw how well she's recovering."

"It's such a relief to have her here," Esme murmured, slipping her hand into Carlisle's. "I've been so worried that I'd never get to see her again."

Carlisle squeezed her hand. "Bella is…surprisingly resilient. Well, maybe it shouldn't surprise me, but I can't imagine that most people would cope with all this as well as she has."

"She's wonderful," Esme said, smiling and leaning her head against Carlisle's shoulder. "You know, I used to worry that when Edward finally met someone, I'd turn into some kind of monster mother-in-law if the girl didn't measure up to my expectations. But now that I know Bella, I think she deserves him as much as he deserves her. They're perfect for each other."

"Mother-in-law or not, it's hard to imagine you turning into a monster of any kind," Carlisle teased, but when Esme looked up at him, his expression had grown serious.

"Do you really think they're perfect for each other, in spite of the obvious problem?" he asked gently.

Esme smiled at him—now that her own worries about Bella were starting to fade, she was eager to assuage Carlisle's. "You know, until I saw her today, I wasn't sure, but now I am," she said. "The way I see it, since they're still together now, after everything that's happened, and since they're both still so obviously happy to be with each other, then they're going to be all right. I don't know how exactly, I just feel sure that things will work out somehow."

Carlisle shook his head, beginning to smile again. "Your confidence really amazes me. I wish that I could be as sanguine as you are."

"I know it's hard to believe that things can really end well between those two," Esme said gently, one hand stroking either side of his face. "But think about it. The odds against you and I being together weren't always good either. Yet here we are."

Carlisle kissed her then, and Esme tried not to laugh when she heard Edward sigh. The walls of the house were soundproof, but the floors were not; Edward could obviously hear them kissing from two floors above.

"Maybe you're right," Carlisle said. "When you put it that way, it's hard not to have high hopes for them. You're all the proof I need that miracles can happen."

Esme grinned at her husband of nearly a hundred years, a man she once could have only dreamed of marrying. Once, she'd been human and he'd been a vampire, and though ten years had passed before they'd finally met again and married, how could Edward and Bella fail to overcome similar obstacles when they were together now, and so in love? When Esme thought of their future, whether Bella remained human or not, Esme could never focus on the potential dangers of the situation for long; rather, thinking of the years ahead of Edward and Bella filled her with hope and confidence.

"Likewise," Esme said, and kissed her own personal miracle.


	154. Research

Hi everyone! Sorry about this, but I've only got one chapter for you today; between looking for a job and preparing to travel this weekend, I just didn't have enough time to write two this week. This one's pretty good though; it deals with Jasper's desire to learn more about what happened to his family after Maria found him, and an unexpected piece of Cullen history. (Also, I used to work in an archive, so I like to think about these kinds of things :)).

One other quick note: if you haven't gotten the chance yet, please check out my new book for Kindle: "How I Almost Killed All My Brothers and Sisters." It's only 99 cents, and I'd really love it if you'd give it a try. (Thanks also to those of you who have already bought the book! If you could maybe review it sometime, I'd really appreciate it! :)). Thanks as always for your reviews, which really do make my day every time, and I'll see you again next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 165 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! AND WE GET TO SEE THE TEASER TRAILER TONIGHT! SO UNBELIEVABLY EXCITING! :)

_2007_: Research

Jasper's POV

It was a clear, sunny day, but Jasper didn't mind; he'd already been planning to spend the day inside, and now he had a perfect excuse. Alice's recent attempts to learn more about her human life had made Jasper intrigued about his own, so they'd taken a plane from Seattle to Houston the previous day so Jasper could do some research on his human family, and they'd arrived at the Harris County Archives just before the early morning sun had emerged from behind a bank of clouds. Now, several hours had passed, and Jasper was deeply immersed in the numerous records he and Alice had found of the family he'd left behind.

Apparently, his parents had died just a few years after the end of the Civil War, and two of Jasper's brothers had opened a general store together. Beyond that, Jasper found few specific details; the Whitlock general store had thrived during the early twentieth century, but it eventually shut its doors during the Great Depression, and after that, most of his family's descendents had left Houston. However, there were still Whitlocks in the 2007 phone book that was sitting on one of the archivists' desks, and Jasper wondered if any of those Whitlocks were distant relatives. Jasper, at Alice's grinning suggestion, had introduced himself to the woman sitting at the front desk as Jacob Black, and he explained that he and his cousin had come to do research on an ancestor.

As far as the staff of the archives knew, Alice and Jasper were both descendents of Jasper Whitlock, the youngest major in the history of the Texas cavalry. To Jasper's surprise (Alice merely seemed smug), several of the archivists had heard of Jasper. Apparently, he was a minor historical figure among Houston Civil War history buffs; rather than being flattered by their knowledge of his past, Jasper was only bemused at how strange it was to hear people talk about him in the past tense. As far as recorded history was concerned, he'd disappeared and presumably died during the war, but no one knew the why or how of the way he'd simply vanished.

"His body was never found, and he was never heard from again, so it seems unlikely that he deserted," the gray-haired woman who was head of the archive told Jasper when he first told her about the "ancestor" he was doing research on. "It's a bit of a mystery, really. His family apparently tried to find him right up until his parents died—somewhere, I've got a copy of a notice they had published and distributed in Houston, offering a reward if anyone had information about Jasper Whitlock. But then Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock both passed away within a few months of each other, and Major Whitlock's surviving siblings all had to scramble to pay for their parents' funerals. After that, they apparently ceased their inquiries and tried to take care of their own affairs."

"Is Jasper Whitlock really that well known?" Jasper said, trying to conceal his unease. "I mean, I'm surprised you know all this about him. I didn't know he was famous."

"Well, I remember his story because Whitlock's sort of an oddity," the archivist explained. "With most Confederate officers, we have at least some idea of how they died, even if a body was never found. Maybe they disappeared during a battle, so we can assume they were killed, or maybe some evidence of them turned up after the war ended and we have an obituary matching the name and description of an officer. But Major Whitlock just sort of vanished into thin air. It's sort of a romantic story, really. A promising young officer, who was by all accounts very handsome and charismatic, disappears just when he seemed destined for glory and promotion. Some of us like to think that he left the war for love—there's no proof of that, of course, but it makes for a better story that way. I like to imagine that he fell in love with one of the women he met during the evacuation of Galveston and ran away with her to Mexico, but of course, we can only speculate about what really happened to him."

"Do you have any photos of him?" Jasper said, careful to make his voice sound hopeful, but really, he was struggling to keep his anxiety from spreading to the archivist. If she did have a photo of him and happened to notice the striking resemblance between "Jacob Black" and his ancestor, Jasper Whitlock, then that could be a problem.

The archivist smiled sadly. "Unfortunately, our archive doesn't have many photographs, and I don't know of any existing photos of Major Whitlock. You're welcome to look at the pictures we have, though."

Jasper thanked the woman and spent the next hour sitting with Alice, both of them carefully searching a photo album for any pictures of the human Jasper Whitlock. There were few photos from the nineteenth century though, which was a relief to Jasper, and he was almost ready to close the album and leave when Alice stopped him.

"We're going to find something," she promised. "I can see us looking at it, but I'm not quite…oh." Alice grinned. "Now I can see it. Keep looking. It'll be in the 1920s."

Curious, Jasper continued flipping through the album—he hadn't visited Houston in years, and he certainly hadn't been here in the twenties, but he kept turning pages until Alice stopped his hand.

"There it is," she whispered.

Jasper stared at the photograph that Alice was pointing to. It was a picture of Carlisle and Esme, standing in what looked like a park on a cloudy evening, both of them dressed in the style of the time, and though their clothes were no different than those of the people in the background of the photo, it was clear to Jasper why the long dead photographer had focused his lens on this particular young couple: Carlisle and Esme were both radiantly happy, smiling at each other and holding hands. The caption beneath the photo read: _An unknown couple standing beside the Miller Outdoor Theater, 1924._

"We'll have to take this with us," Jasper said slowly, still recovering from his amazement, but even as he spoke, Alice was checking to see that none of the archives' staff were looking. Then she quickly removed the photo from its protective sleeve of clear plastic and slipped it into her bag. Moving just as swiftly, Alice replaced the photo with another black and white image of what looked to be a city park in the early twentieth century. Several young couples milled about, children played with dogs, and clouds were clearly visible in the gaps between trees.

"I brought this from home," she explained when Jasper raised his eyebrows at her. "Esme took this picture with her first camera. I wasn't sure what exactly we were going to find when we came here, only that we were going to have to steal something, and that I'd better bring along a replacement photo, just in case. This way, it'll take them longer to notice that the real picture's gone. It's not like we can safely leave it here, can we?"

Jasper simply shook his head. "I'm the last person who'd ever lecture you about stealing incriminating evidence of our immortality. At this point, I'm just grateful we didn't find any pictures of me."

Alice and Jasper left the archives a few hours later, as the sun was setting. As they flew home, Alice kept pulling the photo out of her bag and smiling at the scene, and Jasper couldn't help but smile too. He was happy that he'd learned as much as he had about his family's history after his death: for the most part, it seemed that their lives had been prosperous and happy. Alice's vision and subsequent discovery of the photo of Carlisle and Esme had been an extra treat, and Jasper was eager to see how they would react to seeing the picture.

"You should give it to them," Alice announced as they were leaving the airport. "If we hadn't gone to that archive to do the research you wanted to do, then I never would have had a vision of finding that photo there."

"I'm not going to take credit for your discovery," Jasper said firmly, but Alice was insistent.

"We only went there because you wanted to," Alice pointed out. "I wouldn't have found it otherwise. Besides, they're used to me surprising them with things like this. If you're the one to show it to them, it'll be more of a surprise."

Jasper had to agree with that, so he put the photo into the bag he'd brought with him—humans got suspicious if you didn't bring at least a carry-on with you on a plane—and Alice drove them home, her yellow Porsche exceeding the speed limit all the way to Forks.

When they got home, Jasper took the picture straight to Carlisle, who was sitting in his office. It was after dark, but Esme was still working in the garden, and Jasper guessed that she would want to clean up a bit before examining the old photo, so he hadn't shown it to her as he and Alice had passed her on their way inside.

"Where on earth did you find this?" Carlisle said incredulously, grinning at the sight of himself, his hand in Esme's, standing in front of the Miller Theater nearly a century before.

"Alice found it at the Harris County Archives," Jasper said, smiling. "She knew I'd find what I wanted there, but she also went with me knowing that we were going to find something like this that we'd have to steal."

Carlisle frowned thoughtfully. "We'll have to send them a rather large donation to make up for the loss of an historical artifact. Still, I'm glad you two found this and brought it home with you. If a human who happened to know us were to stumble upon a picture like this, they might start asking awkward questions."

"Like why you haven't aged in ninety years, for example," Jasper said with a smile. Just then, Esme came into the study, wiping her hands dry on the front of her jeans.

"Alice told me to come up here, but to wash my hands first," Esme said. "She said that you had a surprise for me?"

Jasper smiled as Esme's bemusement turned to delight as she perched on the arm of Carlisle's chair and he showed her the photo.

"This is wonderful!" Esme cried. "I remember this concert—we stopped in Houston while we were touring the whole southwest, after you finished working at the hospital in Ashland. Poor Edward was so sick of us fawning over each other that he disappeared after the first half of the program."

"Yes, he said our thoughts made it impossible for him to concentrate on the music," Carlisle said with a grin at Esme, who laughed. "We were rather insufferable back then."

"You say that like we aren't now," Esme said, kissing Carlisle briefly before turning back to Jasper. "Thank you for finding this, Jasper."

"Thank Alice," Jasper said quickly. "And we were both happy she found it, though now I'm worrying about whether or not there might be photos of me out there in other archives, just waiting to be found by someone who could recognize me now. That could be a problem."

Carlisle shrugged. "It's just one of the drawbacks of immortality, I'm afraid. Ever since the camera was invented, I've worried about things like this, though obviously I wasn't always quite as careful as I intended to be."

"Someday, we'll just have to go looking for more photos like these," Esme said thoughtfully. "And 'someday' should probably be soon, really. Now that more and more photos like these are being digitized and posted online, as time goes on, it's going to get even more difficult to erase all evidence of their existence."

Jasper shook his head at the very thought, imagining how many archives there were in the United States alone for them to look through. It would be dull and time-consuming work, even with Alice's help, but that day's discovery had been a pleasant surprise. Carlisle and Esme looked the same today as they had in 1924, and in another ninety years, Jasper felt certain that they would still be smiling as lovingly at each other as they had since the day they were married.

"Interested in touring the country going to archives later this summer?" Carlisle said with a smile.

Jasper thought of visiting countless cramped rooms filled with dusty books, and having to combat crushing boredom in addition to resisting the tantalizing scents of humans. But, if it was to help his family, and if they could discover more photos from the Cullens' past, then it might be worth a try.

Trying and mostly succeeding in keeping a note of sarcasm out of his voice, Jasper said, "You know I like nothing better than doing research."


	155. Prey

Hi everyone! Sorry, but it's happened again: I ended up having two phone interviews this past week, so I only had time to write one chapter. However, I managed to get something else done too: this week, I've changed the years that several chapters take place in to correct dates I discovered that I had wrong after reading "The Official Illustrated Guide," and I've revised chapter seven, chapter twelve, and chapter sixty-four. (They're basically the same stories, only I've changed them a bit to make them more accurate ). So, if you've noticed any other glaring mistakes in "Eternity" that drive you nuts, please tell me about them and I'll correct those too! I'm really hoping to have time for two chapters next week, but we'll see…

One more quick note—I've added some more "Twilight" fan art to my deviant art account, so if you'd like, you can go to my profile and check that out. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 158 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! :)

_1927_: Prey

Edward's POV

It was a cool, clear night, and the moon was rising by the time I found him. I'd first discovered Charles Evanson at his office in Columbus earlier that day, after consulting a phone book and calling to ascertain the address of the office where he worked. He hadn't gone home after work—he'd driven straight out of town to go deer hunting, and I'd had to wait until after sunset to follow him, but I'd caught up as soon as it got dark. Now I was just waiting, watching him flounder around in the dark, almost too drunk to stand, looking for his car, which he'd parked back on the dirt road nearly a mile away. I smiled grimly when he almost tripped over his gun. My first human victim was both an easy target and a deserving one.

Just a few days ago, I'd still been living with Carlisle and Esme, the thought of whom made my smile disappear. I'd left them suddenly, abruptly too fed up to continue living with the sounds of evil humans' thoughts in my head. For Carlisle, it was enough to heal the sick and injured, and to help people who he knew to be in trouble escape from the dangers that threatened them. For Esme, it was enough to live her life without killing humans, and for the most part, she succeeded at that. But I was tired of pacifism, tired of ignoring the violent thoughts of murders, who were a more common breed than I ever would have suspected before I could hear the thoughts of others. They walked among innocent people, invisible to everyone but myself, and living with Carlisle and Esme meant that I had to resist the urge to hunt even the worst of mankind. I could no longer tolerate living that way.

After a night at the theater, where I'd heard a man thinking about the bodies he'd buried in his basement, I snapped. I went home, packed a few things in a small bag, and then I told my parents very calmly and quietly that I was leaving, that I was going to live as a nomad from then on, and that I was going to hunt humans whose actions were so terrible that they didn't deserve to live. And then I left. I'm faster than both my parents, and getting away was an easy matter, especially since they were too shocked by my abrupt departure to pursue me at first. But then they came after me.

"Edward, wait!" Esme called. "Come back!"

"Son, please!" Carlisle shouted after me, but I kept running. I ran all night long, trying in vain to forget the stricken expressions I'd seen on their faces just before I'd turned to leave the house for good. Angry as I was at the way Carlisle had held me back from killing even the vilest representatives of humanity the past few years, I didn't hate him, and I didn't want to make he or Esme unhappy—I still loved my parents, and I understood the reasons they lived the way they did, which Carlisle had explained to me countless times.

But I'd decided that I couldn't lead such a life anymore, not when I could separate the guilty humans from the innocent. Carlisle and Esme could choose to live without human blood, but I couldn't, not when I could make the world a better place by ridding it of monsters like Charles Evanson. What was the point of having a gift like mine, if not for this very purpose? The way I saw it, I was finally fulfilling my destiny.

As I watched the man from a tree, still stumbling around in the darkness and cursing quietly to himself, I thought of my mother, and I imagined how I would kill the man who'd spent years tormenting her. I didn't care what Carlisle said—why this man had been allowed to draw breathe for six years after Esme's death was a mystery to me. I knew that Esme had never asked Carlisle to kill Charles, that she herself had never felt a desire to go after him, but his very existence filled me with a rage that was hard to control.

Then, with an exquisite feeling of freedom, I realized that I no longer had to control my rages. If a human deserved to die, then he would die—I was free from my father's narrow concept of justice, my mother's worries about right and wrong. Now, 'justice,' 'right,' and 'wrong' were more than simply words, concepts that my parents respected but couldn't really understand—not like I could._ I _would make justice a reality by destroying evil…starting with the man who had just staggered to rest against the trunk of the very tree I was perched in.

In the end, it was over very quickly. I had wanted to prolong it, to make him feel that this was retribution for everything he'd done to Esme, every way he'd ever hurt her, but then, before I could even speak, I realized that he was bleeding—he'd scraped his palm on the trunk of the tree—and as soon as I smelled the blood, the knowledge that I no longer had to resist my thirst filled me with a kind of mad impatience. For nine long years, I'd struggled to stop myself from killing humans. Now, I didn't have to anymore.

"Wha—" was all he managed. Then he tried to scream, but my teeth were already buried in his throat. And seconds later, he was dead. It was both thrilling and strangely disappointing to discover how easy I'd been able to end a human's life. Until I'd done it, I'd never known what it would really feel like, and though the absence of the burn in my throat was a welcome change of pace after nearly a decade of thirst, I felt…less triumphant than I'd expected I would. In reality, the thrill of killing Charles Evanson had lasted only a split second. Now, when I looked down at his lifeless body, he was only a thing, not a person who'd hurt someone I loved. It was satisfying, but it wasn't the victory I'd imagined either. Now there was just the practical matter of what to do with the body to consider.

I carried the corpse of my first human kill to a lake several miles away. I dove into the water, carrying the body with me, and when I reached the bottom, I piled waterlogged tree limbs, small rocks, and all manner of other debris on top of the corpse to weigh it down. Fish and other water dwelling creatures would finish what I'd started. Soon, my mother's former husband would be reduced to nothing but bones, lost to memory…or so I hoped.

As I swam to the surface, I felt a pang when I pictured my parents' faces before I'd left. I'd sought out Charles Evanson for Esme's sake, to finally rid the world of the man who'd caused her so much pain, but it bothered me that I'd done so without her consent. In that respect, I was no better than Carlisle—perhaps in killing this man, I was giving her a gift that she hadn't wanted after all.

_No_, I told myself furiously. _Don't be ridiculous. Someday I'll go back and tell her that he's dead, and she'll be…relieved. Not happy, but relieved. I'm sure of it._

When I climbed out of the lake, I felt almost…cold. Not physically, but something inside me shied away from what I'd just done. It was very anticlimactic in a way; I'd thought that after killing a man like this one, I'd want to go out and celebrate. But instead, all I could think was that it wasn't enough, that killing this man hadn't brought me the satisfaction I'd always believed I'd feel if I ever left Carlisle and followed my own convictions. And of course, what was one death in the greater scheme of things? Charles Evanson was dead, but how many other monsters were out there, hurting people just as he had?

_He's only the first of many_, I told myself firmly. _I haven't really made the world better place yet, have I? Why would I be happy about killing one mean drunk? I'll go to another city. There are so many evil humans out there, all of them just waiting for me to find them. _

And as soon as I started running, away from the lake and my first kill, I felt excited. Animal blood had never tasted as good as the human blood I'd just consumed, and suddenly I felt faster, stronger, and more sure of myself than ever before. I _was_ doing the right thing, I was certain of that. From now on, my life would consist of slaking my thirst with the blood of humans whose thoughts would tell me that they deserved death at my hands. I was a predator now, and predators live to seek out their prey.


	156. Skeptical

Hi everyone! Finally, I started early enough (Monday night) that I managed to get two chapters done this week. :) This first one is set a few weeks after Esme became a vampire; I imagine that as she and Carlisle talked, Esme would find some parts of suddenly being a part of a world of supernatural creatures harder to believe than others. Thanks as always for your reviews, and look for one more chapter after this one! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 151 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! :)

_1921_: Skeptical

Esme's POV

Carlisle had just gotten home from work, and just as he had every day for the past few weeks, he'd immediately sat down on the sofa across from her so they could talk. Esme had only been a vampire for a little over a month, and not only was it difficult to accept that she was now immortal, destined to survive on the blood of other creatures for the rest of her existence, Esme could hardly believe that she got to see Carlisle every day. Even more amazing was the fact that he always seemed as eager to see her when he got home as she was to see him.

Esme was surprised at how much there was to learn about her new life as a vampire. Bram Stoker's novel and other fictional accounts of the denizens of the night had apparently left her ill-informed about many aspects of vampirism, and even after several weeks of daily questions on her part and patient explanations on Carlisle's, Esme was still making new discoveries. On this particular day, Carlisle was trying to tell her about another creature that even powerful newborn vampires needed to be aware of.

"You're kidding!" Esme said incredulously. "Or at least I hope you are. Werewolves are real too?"

"Yes, though they're not very common," Carlisle said with a smile. "As a new citizen of the supernatural world, I just thought I'd tell you that they do exist, and that they can pose a threat to us. It's unlikely you'll ever see one though. The Volturi have hunted the Children of the Moon nearly to extinction."

Esme stared at Carlisle, still shocked. "But…how? I mean, the mechanics of becoming a vampire are something I can at least begin to understand. The venom changes us, and stops our hearts. After that, we aren't exactly human anymore, we're something else, permanently. How can some humans change into wolves every full moon, and then change back when the moon wanes?"

Carlisle shrugged. "Honestly, I can no more explain the science of werewolves than I can the science of vampires. The existence of either of our kind is difficult to explain. Apparently though, werewolves are similar to us, in that they aren't born, they're created through a sort of venom. If a werewolf bites a human, then that human will become infected, and will proceed to transform for the first time during the next full moon."

"Does silver really hurt them then?" Esme wondered. "How much of the legends are true, and how much is just superstition?"

"I think that silver harms werewolves about as much as it harms us," Carlisle said. "So, not at all really. The only things that werewolves really have to worry about are vampires. They're a danger to us too, but when werewolves transform, they don't keep their human minds, so that puts them at a disadvantage."

"Have you ever seen one?" Esme asked, hoping that she didn't sound uneasy. Finding out that there were vampires living in Wisconsin had been shocking enough, but what if there were werewolves in Ashland too?

"Once, in Germany, but that was over a century ago," Carlisle said with a shrug. "Caius, one of the leaders of the Volturi, had a run in with some werewolves a long time ago. He's been leading werewolf hunts ever since, and now there are hardly any left."

Esme nodded, but privately, she remained a little skeptical, if only because it was so hard to believe anything about her new life. Werewolves were an unexpected twist, certainly, but the most unbelievable thing about all this was the fact that it was Carlisle who'd found her in the morgue and saved her after all these years. What were the odds of them meeting again like this? It simply seemed too good to be true, and though Esme was sometimes a little afraid to trust in her newfound good fortune, especially when Carlisle was away, as long as he was with her, Esme wanted to believe that this new life was real, that she was really sharing a home with the man she'd spent years dreaming about. Even if they were only friends, that was far better than nothing.

Carlisle smiled, apparently sensing her doubts. "You don't believe me, do you?"

Esme shrugged and smiled slightly. "Let's just say that I'll believe in werewolves when I see one."

"You can believe in vampirism, but not lycanthropy?" he said with a chuckle.

"I _am_ a vampire, so it's easy to believe that our kind exist," Esme said, laughing too now. "But people turning into wolves? It's like something out of a fairy tale."

Carlisle smiled at her. "Finding you sort of seemed that way too. I mean, when I found you, I felt a bit like a prince arriving just in time to rescue a princess."

Esme was glad she couldn't blush anymore. "You're exaggerating now. Finding me can't have really felt like that."

"It did though," Carlisle said quietly. "As soon as I caught your scent, I remembered when I met you before, and I could hardly believe my luck."

"Finding Edward must have been similar though," Esme argued, too amazed to believe that Carlisle had really felt lucky to find her. "Wasn't it?"

"Oh, yes, it was...similar" Carlisle said quickly, though Esme wondered if he would have said so if she hadn't prompted him to; he'd sounded almost…reluctant to agree with her comparison of his discovery of Edward to his discovery of her.

Esme shook her head. _I'm just imagining things_, she told herself. It was pleasant to imagine that Carlisle felt close to her, and that finding her had made him happy, but after all, he barely knew her, and he'd known Edward for years; of course Edward meant more to Carlisle than she did. That was only logical. If they were really only friends, which was of course all she could be to him, it was silly to delude herself into thinking that she could be more special to him than the boy who had become his son. It was foolish of her to think that he'd even implied such a thing!

_I had an overactive imagination when I was human,_ Esme thought grimly. _Somehow, becoming immortal seems to have only made it worse._

For a few moments, they were both quiet. Esme, for her part, was only pretending to read the book she'd been holding when Carlisle came home, and though Carlisle was staring at his newspaper, he never changed the page he was on, which he normally would have read in seconds.

"It's just difficult for me to believe how lucky I am now," Carlisle said at last, smiling a little, but there was something ancient and sad about his eyes. "Finding you…and Edward, has made me happier than I can say, Esme."

"Likewise," Esme said immediately, then hurried to clarify. "That is, I'm very happy you found me too." _Because I love you so much_, she thought, her eyes sliding shyly back to her book. She was determined to never say those words aloud, because she couldn't believe that Carlisle could ever feel the same way. Some things really were too good to be true, and Esme was sure that her fantasy of Carlisle ever being anything more than her friend was just that—a fantasy. Esme was both relieved and pained by the fact that, much as she might like to, she was too skeptical to trust in such impossible dreams.


	157. Pack

Hi again! Here's today's second chapter: it's about how, following the events of "Breaking Dawn," it might take the rest of Jacob's pack some time to get comfortable around the Cullens. (Usually I just skip to a period when the Cullens and the wolves would have basically been friends, but as "Breaking Dawn" gets closer, I think that I'd like to do a couple more "things are still awkward because we're not sure we can trust each other yet" Jacob chapters :)). The TV show I refer to in this chapter is "Mystery Science Theater 3000," and I mean it when I say that it is truly one of mankind's greatest achievements. (Especially the episode called "Werewolf," which Jacob and the others watch in this chapter :)). Thanks as always for your really, really great reviews, and I'll see you again next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of "Twilight"…as you know.

_2007_: Pack

Jacob's POV

It was snowing by the time I got to the Cullens' place, and as I pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, snowflakes landed on me and immediately melted—I was soaked by the time I entered the house. Esme was waiting for me with a towel and a change of dry clothes.

"Thanks," I said sheepishly. "Here, I'll dry my feet off first so I don't get mud everywhere."

"Oh, don't worry, Jacob," Esme said, shaking her head. "I mean, it's very thoughtful of you to worry about that, but I need to clean up in here anyway. Or at least _someone_ needs to mop up all the mud they tracked in here this morning."

I heard Emmett laugh from the kitchen. "Hey, I'm mopping right now! Come look, I have a mop and everything, Esme."

Esme rolled her eyes and smiled reluctantly. "It helps if you get the mop wet, Emmett. And when you're done in there, could you help me in the living room?"

"Isn't January a little early for spring cleaning?" I asked.

Esme sighed. "My dear children were outside playing football earlier, which is perfectly fine, but we do have a rule in this house that if you bring large quantities of mud into it, you have to help clean it up. Alice and Jasper did their part earlier, and so did Edward and Bella, so now Rose and Emmett just need to help me finish the kitchen and the entryway, since we're going to be having company later."

"And by company, you mean Quil, Embry and Seth?" I wondered. "Esme, you really didn't need to go to all this trouble."

"That's what I said," Rosalie grumbled, marching into the living room with a stack of clean towels in her hands. "The laundry's done. Are we finished yet?"

"As soon as you vacuum the living room," Esme said. "I'll mop the entryway as soon as Emmett finishes the kitchen."

"Here, I'll put these in the drier," I said, carrying my wet clothes and the towel I'd used toward the kitchen. The laundry room was just past the pantry, but before I got there, I stopped to watch Emmett examine the mop. It wasn't the kind that Billy kept in our kitchen and almost never used—there were more metal bits, and I was pretty sure that Emmett had no more idea how it was supposed to work than I did.

"Mind if I grab something to eat before you get started?" I asked.

Emmett grunted. "Maybe if I just throw some water on the floor and wipe it up with paper towels, she won't notice."

"I heard that," Esme said, and while I took care of my laundry and microwaved a bag of popcorn, I half-listened as Esme explained to Emmett how the mop worked. When my popcorn was ready, I poured it in a bowl, grabbed a soda, and went back to the living room, where instead of turning on the TV, I watched Rosalie vacuum. Seriously, you can't imagine how amusing it was to watch her, and how obviously pissed she was that I was there to watch her.

I grinned as I sat down on the sofa. "Hey, when you're done, you can come clean my room too."

"Unless you want me to apply the business end of this thing to your face, you'll stop talking now," Rosalie said, brandishing the vacuum at me.

"You missed a spot," I said, and in response, Rosalie threw one of the vacuum's attachments at my head, which I caught and threw back. She left the room a few minutes later, after glaring murderously at me the whole time she was pushing the vacuum around, so I turned on the TV and tried to find something to watch at two in the afternoon on a Monday that wasn't a soap opera, a talk show, or a TV judge. Finally, I found an old episode of that show where a guy and two robots make fun of bad movies, so I watched that for a while—Bela Lugosi was in it, but he wasn't playing a vampire, so I didn't call Rosalie in to make any jokes about him being her ex-boyfriend.

About an hour later, I heard footsteps outside.

"We're here!" Seth called, bounding into the house like the oversized kid he is.

"Dry off before you come in, or Blondie'll kill you for messing up the rug she just vacuumed," I called, then shoved the remaining contents of my bowl of popcorn into my mouth—Seth could microwave another bag if wanted to.

Embry and Quil came in behind Seth, moving a bit more cautiously—this was only the second or third time that they'd been to the Cullens' house since they'd joined my pack, and it still made them sort of nervous to be surrounded by the smell of bloodsuckers. Since I'd been over here every day for months, I was pretty much immune to both the smell and to the feeling of being creeped out by the presence of so many vampires, and so was Seth, but Quil and Embry were still a little edgy. The only reason I'd been able to get them to come over today was that Embry's mom was reading him the riot act again about sneaking out at night and being so secretive, so he'd wanted to get out of La Push for a while. Plus, Dr. Fang said he'd grab some pizzas on his way home from work, so we were guaranteed tons of food. Quil and Embry might still be a little twitchy around leeches, but they weren't about to turn up their noses at free pizza, even if it was supplied by vampires.

"Hey," I said, when they came in to sit down. Since I knew they wouldn't go looking for anything themselves, I went to the fridge and got them some sodas. "There's some clean clothes in the laundry room if you want to change."

Quil wrinkled his nose. "Man, I'll never understand how you can handle the smell in here, Jake."

"Just don't think about it," I said. "When I quit complaining about it, after a while, I just stopped noticing."

"Hi, boys," Esme said, coming in with a mop and bucket to clean the entryway—Emmett, who was apparently relieved of cleaning detail, joined us in the living room and stole the remote, then checked ESPN before changing the channel back to the show I'd been watching. Apparently, a new bad movie had started, because Bela Lagosi had been replaced by a bunch of archeologists who were fighting about something.

"Hello, Mrs. Cullen," Quil and Embry said together—they're both sort of hyper polite around Carlisle and Esme, but they kind of pretend that the rest of the Cullens, other than Bella, don't exist. I think they're still a little embarrassed about the whole, "we were planning to kill you until Jake split from Sam's pack" thing.

"Hi, Esme," Seth said, sitting down at the other end of the couch. "Where's Nessie today?"

I rolled my eyes but smiled too. Seth's so used to being treated like a kid among the wolves that he likes being one of Nessie's many big brothers.

"She and Edward and Bella are cleaning up the cottage," Esme said, "but they should be back pretty soon. Nessie said she wanted to try some pizza."

"Is Carlisle getting one with extra blood?" I asked, and Seth and I laughed when Quil and Embry, who'd each opened a can of soda and started to drink, started to choke.

"Could you not be disgusting for five seconds?" Embry demanded, but he and Quil were both laughing now too, and I could see that it was only a matter of time before they were as comfortable here as Seth and I were.

"What?" I said innocently. "Nessie usually only likes human food if there's some blood mixed in with it."

"Tomato sauce is the same color as blood," Emmett pointed out. "Maybe that'll help."

Seth and I laughed, but Quil and Embry both looked a little edgy again—hearing a vampire as big as Emmett even mention blood was apparently enough to freak them out.

For a little while, we all sat and laughed at the bad movie. It was called "Werewolf," and trust me, these were the fakest, lamest werewolves you could possibly imagine. Most of them started off looking like guys who just needed a shave, and they eventually ended up looking more like bears than wolves. It was ridiculous and terrible, so of course, it was hilarious.

About halfway through the movie, Embry asked me if he could stay at my house that night.

"Maybe if your dad calls my mom and says I'm at your place, she'll calm down a little," he muttered unhappily.

"You know, you should just tell her already, Embry," Quil said, and I sighed, because they have this same conversation pretty much every other day. "She's just going to find out eventually anyway."

"Your parents don't know yet either!" Embry pointed out irritably. "Why the hell should I tell my mom if you won't tell yours?"

"I'm just saying, Jake's our Alpha now, and he says it's okay to tell our parents," Quil said with a shrug. "The next time mine try to ground me, I'm definitely telling them."

"Oh, but you want me to go first so you'll have an idea how bad _your_ mom's going to freak out when you tell her, is that it?" Embry demanded.

"Think of it this way, Embry," I said, wanting to finish this stupid argument once and for all. "Would your mom rather have a juvenile delinquent for a son, or a werewolf?"

"A juvenile delinquent, probably!" Embry said stubbornly. "At least juvenile delinquents can be reformed. Me, I'm not going to stop phasing for a while, probably."

"Esme," I said quickly, just as she was leaving the room with the mop and bucket, the cleaning finally all done. "Would you rather have one of your kids be a werewolf or a juvenile delinquent?"

"A werewolf, definitely," Esme said seriously, looking at Embry. "Jake has a point, Embry. Right now, your mother thinks you must be doing something wrong, and she's worried. If you tell her what's really going on, and that what's happened to you wasn't something you could control, she'll still be worried, but I think she'll be less worried."

Embry looked sort of uncertain now. "You really think so?"

"I do," Esme said, smiling at him before she left the room. "Just think about it, Embry."

"This movie is awful," Emmett declared, watching as yet another guy turned into a really unconvincing werewolf on the TV. "Seriously, you guys should be embarrassed just by association."

"Hey, it's not like it's our fault," Quil said. "Do you guys go around apologizing for every terrible vampire movie that's ever been made?"

"Nah, I guess not," Emmett said with a shrug. "I mean, that wouldn't really be in keeping with the whole secrecy thing for either of us, would it? Still, this is really bad."

"Maybe we should start a supernatural creature anti-defamation league," I suggested.

"Hell, I'd join," Emmett said. "Not all vampires have terrible hair and wear stupid capes."

"You aren't going to join the 'we like werewolves' club too, are you Emmett?" Rosalie said, coming downstairs and joining him in his chair. I was surprised that rather than sounding pissed, Rosalie just sounded bored.

Emmett grinned. "You have to admit, these guys do make things more interesting around here."

"Please don't make me admit that," Rosalie said wearily. In spite of her complaining, she sat and watched the rest of the movie with us, and for once, Blondie and I didn't fight—I know, it was a minor miracle. Maybe Esme had told her to try being nicer to us for Nessie's sake; whatever the reason was, it was nice to take a break from our usual exchange of dumb dog and dumb blond jokes. (I was out of blond jokes anyway.)

After the movie (the ending of which was painfully obvious), Rosalie and Emmett went upstairs, and all of us tried not to think about what they might be doing up there while we started watching another bad movie.

"The Giant Gila Monster," Embry said, reading the title. "Yikes, that sounds even worse than the last one."

"It'll be funny then," Quil said, settling back in his seat. "Seriously, haven't you ever noticed that bad movies are usually funnier by accident than supposedly good movies are funny on purpose?"

Just then, we all heard the sound of Carlisle's car turning into the driveway.

"Pizza's here," Seth announced, and we all hurried to the kitchen to grab more sodas to drink with our food. Esme put out plates and napkins for us, and we all took at least one of each, even though it was pretty clear that we were all just going to grab our own boxes of pizza and start devouring their contents. Yeah, even as humans, we sort of eat like wolves, in terms of the speed we eat at and the mess we make in the process.

"Will twelve of these be enough?" Carlisle asked as he came in and set a towering stack of pizzas down on the kitchen table.

I shrugged. "I've been meaning to go on a diet anyway. Thanks, doc. You know, you're probably the only pizza delivery guy in the world who drives a Mercedes."

Carlisle chuckled. "When you put it that way, I guess I shouldn't expect a tip."

Seth and the others muttered their thanks through mouthfuls of pizza, and I grinned. Though Quil and Embry might not appreciate it if I ever said so out loud, I saw the Cullens as being part of my pack now too…or maybe I was part of theirs. Whatever. Either way, I was glad to see my two sort-of families coming together like this, even if the newfound friendship was based mostly on my packmates liking free food and Carlisle and Esme enjoying the chance to feed us.

A few minutes later, I heard more footsteps outside.

"Can I try some?" Nessie asked, running in through the back door ahead of Edward and Bella. And of course, I'd saved her a slice.


	158. Daughters

Hi everyone! Sorry for missing last week, but I've been away house and dog sitting, and I'm still looking for a full-time job, so that's been keeping me busy. Also though, I've been reading Cassandra Clare's "Mortal Instruments" series, so yeah, sorry, that really distracted me last week. (I'm almost done with the third book, and now I'm just waiting for the fourth one to come in the mail…:)) But now I'm finally back with two new chapters tonight, and I'm hoping to have another finished sometime tomorrow. :)

Today's first chapter is a fun reader request: someone asked for a chapter where Carlisle has to get involved in a father-daughter event, so here it is! As always, if you get the chance, please review (yeah, I'm addicted to reviews :)), and look for one more chapter after this one!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 137 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! :)

_2002_: Daughters

Carlisle's POV

"Honestly, it's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of," Rosalie said, staring at the flyer that Alice had brought home from school that day. "Who on earth decided that this was a good idea?"

"I think it's sort of sweet, really," Esme said, though she was giggling a little, as was Alice.

"Sweet for actual eighth graders, maybe," Alice said. "The fact that I'm several decades older than the average eighth grader, and the fact that Carlisle is several _centuries_ older than the average dad does make it a little strange."

"Well, Alice," Carlisle said with a sigh, "can I ask you formally to be my date for this…father-daughter dance?"

Alice and Esme immediately dissolved into helpless laughter at Carlisle's expression of amusement mingled with feigned formality. Even Rosalie smiled. "I'm almost sorry that I look too old for eighth grade," she said with a very phony sigh. "You could have asked me."

"You can come too, if you'd like," Alice said with a grin. "The flyer says that older and younger sisters are welcome."

"And just what exactly is the point of this event?" Rosalie wondered again, though Alice could sense her resistance to the idea weakening; Rosalie loved dances, no matter the theme or occasion, and she almost never turned down a chance to dress up and be admired for her beauty.

"Well, I think it's supposed to help the self esteem of teenage girls," Alice said thoughtfully. "You know, their dads take them to a dance and show them that guys are supposed to be nice when they take them on dates. Carlisle, in this case, will be acting as the kind of positive male role model that actual eighth grade girls are supposed to look for in future boyfriends."

"But since he's always the perfect gentleman anyway, it won't be acting," Esme pointed out, kissing him on the cheek.

"And this applies to us how, since we've both been married for decades?" Rosalie asked, raising her eyebrows.

"For us, it's just an excuse to get dressed up," Alice said with a shrug, knowing exactly how Rosalie would react to a chance to attract the kind of attention she always attracted at dances.

Rosalie thought for a moment. "Okay, I'll come too."

* * *

Alice smiled as Carlisle held the door open for her while she stepped out of his car. Though she was the smallest member of the Cullen family, she only rarely took the opportunity to pretend to be younger than her siblings; this year though, her short stature had enabled Alice to enroll at the local middle school, and it had made for an entertaining change of pace. Compared to high school, middle school was a completely different world. Rather than being on the cusp of adulthood, the majority of the students were just beginning to leave childhood behind.

On her first day, Alice had been surprised at how young everyone looked, and how though she looked like she belonged (thanks to her height and by wearing more youthful clothes), her life had spanned so many more years than any of her classmates could have imagined. Now, at the Father-Daughter Dance, seeing girls as young as twelve wearing dresses with corsages and going into the school on their fathers' arms, Alice was struck all over again by how old she was, compared to everyone around her. Even the fathers dancing with their children would have been young enough to be Alice's grandchildren, or even great-grandchildren, if she were still human.

"Something on your mind?" Carlisle asked, going to open Rosalie's door.

"Don't be too conscientious a date, Carlisle, or I might tell Jasper to watch out for you," Rosalie said with a smirk. She was clearly having fun.

Alice rolled her eyes. "I was just thinking. Sometimes it feels so strange, doesn't it, to go to things like this and think about how much older we are than everyone else?"

"Yes," Carlisle said immediately, glancing at a father who looked to be in his mid-twenties. "Physically, that man's older than I am, and I'm sure he'd have some parenting tips for me, if I asked. It's difficult sometimes, having nearly a century of parenting experience and not getting to share what I've learned, since no one would believe me if I tried."

"Is Esme here already?" Rosalie asked.

"Yes, she took Edward's car," Carlisle said with a smile. "Chaperones had to arrive early."

Though Carlisle always tried to make it to school events (it would look suspicious if the Cullens didn't attend anything at their respective schools, but he enjoyed school events too), Alice had a feeling that the main reason he'd agreed to this dance was the fact that Esme would be there too. Esme had joined the PTA that year, and as such, she'd volunteered to chaperone a lot of middle and high school events. Alice had known she'd enjoy it, but Esme had been reluctant at first.

"PTA parents don't always like me," Esme had pointed out. "I don't really look old enough to have children in middle school, let alone high school."

"Well, I don't look old enough for high school really, but I usually enroll there anyway," Alice had said. "Come on, please? I know you'll have fun." So, Esme had relented, and now here she was, smiling at middle school girls as she stood by the door taking tickets and complimenting everyone on their outfits.

Inside the school auditorium, the dance was basically what Alice had expected: girls milled around and talked to their friends, people waited in line for punch, and fathers and daughters danced together with varying degrees of awkwardness.

"Shall we?" Alice said, and Carlisle smiled as he led her onto the dance floor. Alice and Rosalie took turns dancing with Carlisle, and whenever she wasn't dancing, Alice spent most of her time following Esme around and talking with her while she performed her chaperoning duties, which didn't consist of much except watching people dance; the Father-Daughter dance was a great deal less rowdy than the other middle school dances that Alice had dragged Jasper to.

"Having fun?" Carlisle asked near the end of the dance, and Alice nodded.

"This sort of reminds me of when Jasper and I first found you," she said. "A few weeks after we moved in, there was a city dance that everyone but Edward wanted to go to. I made him come too though, and since Jasper didn't want to risk being so close to so many people yet, I made you and Edward and Emmett take turns dancing with me all evening."

Carlisle chuckled. "Esme thought it was cute, but Rosalie was less thrilled."

Alice grinned. "Yup, she wasn't too happy that I kept borrowing Emmett, but it didn't seem fair to expect Edward to dance with me all night. Besides, it was a fun way to get to know everyone."

"That was fifty-two years ago," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "Back then, I never would have guessed that by the next century, Esme and I would hardly ever get to go dancing anymore. It was such a popular thing to do for so long that I'm surprised it's sort of gone out of fashion now."

"You're right," Alice said with a frown. "Unless you take a dancing class or something, I guess that people hardly ever go dancing much anymore. Other than school dances, there just aren't as many opportunities as there used to be." Suddenly Alice laughed. "I really hope no one heard me just now. Saying that made me sound more like an old woman than an eighth grader."

Carlisle grinned. "Don't worry. You have nothing on me when it comes to sounding decrepit. A day doesn't go by when I look at an electric light and don't remember all the years I spent fussing with candles and oil lamps."

Alice laughed and then stepped away from him. "I didn't miss your hint just now, you know. Go on, go dance with Esme."

"Are you sure?" Carlisle asked, though it was obvious that he didn't need much coaxing.

"There's only a song or two left anyway," Alice said dismissively. "Go on, go dance with her. I'll go sit with Rosalie and pretend that my feet hurt."

Alice smiled as she watched Carlisle cross the auditorium and pull Esme into a dance. Alice heard her faintly protest that she was supposed to be chaperoning, but Carlisle twirled her around, and Alice could hear Esme laughing, her protest forgotten. Trying to look tired instead of just amused, Alice went and joined Rosalie at their table.

"This was fun," Rosalie said, nodding regally at a group of girls who'd been staring admiringly at her all evening. "I still think it's a silly idea, but it's a fun one too."

Alice grinned, watching Carlisle and Esme slow dance, both of them smiling contentedly. "Told you so. We should really invite our parents to more school dances."

Rosalie laughed, but she didn't disagree.


	159. Last

Hi again everyone! Here's a short chapter set the day before the wedding in "Breaking Dawn." (Ooh, I can't wait to do more "Breaking Dawn" chapters as the movie gets closer! :)) See you again tomorrow (hopefully—we'll see if I can really get an extra chapter done…)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and her blurb on the front of the first three books in "The Mortal Instruments" series convinced me to read them; thank you, Stephenie Meyer, for recommending some great summer reading. :)

_2006_: Last

Bella's POV

Early in the evening on the day before the wedding, all I could think about was the fact that this time tomorrow, I would be at the Cullens' house, either married already or getting ready to marry Edward. I'd spent a lot of the day in the kitchen; since it was my last day there, I'd been making some of Charlie's favorites, so at least he'd have some good leftovers to eat while Edward and I were away on our honeymoon. It felt so strange, moving around the tiny kitchen and wondering if this would be the last time I'd ever see it or cook in it…if tomorrow would be the last time I'd ever see Charlie's house or Charlie himself ever again.

Renée and Phil were staying in a hotel on the edge of Forks; my Mom had understood that I wanted to have one last night of relative normalcy at Charlie's house before the wedding, so she'd agreed to meet me at the Cullens' house tomorrow, where she would help me get ready…assuming Alice would let any hands but her own touch my hair, dress, or makeup tomorrow. I tried not to shudder at the thought, and instead focused on not burning the enchiladas. Aside from those, I was baking a lasagna, a meatloaf, and a shepherd's pie—all easy things to reheat in the microwave. Charlie would be set for weeks this way. As I cooked, I tried not to think about where I'd be, or if I'd even still be human by the time Charlie finished all his leftovers.

Edward and I hadn't exactly settled the matter of when specifically he was going to change me, and at the moment, I was too excited and anxious about our upcoming honeymoon to care. But it was impossible not to wonder how much longer I was going to be human after the honeymoon was over. The sooner Edward changed me, the safer all of us would be. But of course, now that the prospect of becoming a vampire was getting close to becoming a reality, it was hard not to feel a little edgy about the whole thing.

It wasn't that I was afraid exactly. I knew that it was going to hurt, and that that part would be hard. More than that though, I had questions about how I would feel after the change was complete. The Cullens had spent weeks helping to prepare me to join their world, but there were still things I wondered about, and food was one of them. Did any of my new family miss eating, despite the fact that food no longer tasted appealing to them? And did any of them remember what had been the last thing that they'd eaten before they'd died?

I would have asked Alice, but she couldn't remember her human life; I guessed that Rosalie would be angered by the question, and she would have taken it as proof that I was making a mistake in giving up my human life; Emmett would have answered me, but I could never get him away from Rosalie long enough to ask him; similarly, Carlisle was usually at work, Esme was busy with wedding arrangements (assigned to her by Alice), and though Jasper might have told me, whenever I was at the Cullens' place, Edward never left my side, and I definitely couldn't ask him, or ask anyone else in his presence. I was sure he'd just be saddened by my question. Anyway, it didn't really matter; the answer wasn't important, but my curiosity was at least a welcome distraction from the mild panic I felt every time I stopped and thought about the wedding.

"I'm home," Charlie called from the hallway, shutting the door behind him, and as I roused myself from my thoughts of the future, I suddenly had to struggle not to get a little teary. Tonight was really it: the last night of my relatively ordinary human life. There would never be another night like this, and who knew how much time would have to pass before it would even be safe for me to be in the same room as Charlie after Edward changed me...assuming it would be possible to see Charlie again at all.

"Sorry I'm late," Charlie said, stepping into the kitchen. "Since I'm taking tomorrow off, I had a few extra things to take care of before I left. Wow, everything smells great, Bella."

Like Charlie, I'm just not a weepy person. The urge to cry passed almost as quickly as it had come on: what was the point of crying anyway? I was finally getting what I wanted, and there would be plenty of time to miss the things I was giving up after I'd actually given them up. Tonight, I was determined to just enjoy one last meal with my Dad.

As soon as I saw Charlie, I managed a smile, and soon, we were sitting down to dinner (some of the enchiladas) and behaving like it was just another night. And it was nice to pretend, even though we both knew that things would never really be the same again, though of course Charlie had no way of knowing just how much things would change after tomorrow. Before I knew it, we'd both finished eating, and I was just getting up to do the dishes when Charlie stopped me.

"You might as well let me take care of those, Bells. It looks like you've got your hands full with cooking stuff."

"Thanks," I said, going to take the lasagna out of the oven; everything else needed a few more minutes. "This way, you won't have to start living off of pizza for a while."

Charlie was about to reply, but just then, we both heard a car pull up in front of the house. Charlie and I both looked at each other, and a few seconds later, someone rang the doorbell.

"I'll get it," I said, wondering who it could be—my Mom? Or maybe Edward had decided that we should elope after all? With that thought in mind, I ran to the door.

When I opened it, I found Esme standing on the doorstep, a dish covered in foil in her hands.

"Hi, honey," Esme said, smiling at me. "I know that you and Charlie are having a meal on your own tonight, and I don't want to interrupt, but if you don't mind, I made you two some dessert."

"Oh, wow, thanks," I said, realizing that I'd cooked practically everything but a dessert today.

"It's just brownies," Esme said with a shrug. "Alice said Charlie likes them."

I rolled my eyes. "Honestly, I'm never going to get used to her knowing things like that. Thank you, Esme."

"You're welcome," Esme said, her smile eager as she turned to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow—incidentally, everything's all ready."

I tried not to start hyperventilating when I heard that. "Esme," I said quietly. "Before you leave, I have a really quick question."

"Ask away," Esme said immediately.

I bit my lip. "It's sort of…weird."

"Then it's probably right up my alley," Esme said with a grin. "I have a lot of experience with weird. What is it?"

I sighed. "Okay…do you remember the last thing you had to eat before Carlisle…changed you?"

Esme looked a little surprised, but not upset, so that was a relief. She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then she said, "Soup. I think. Let's see, I would have had it after my son was born, but I don't remember eating much after that because he was so sickly, and all I can picture when I try to think back is a blur of memories of taking care of him…hmm, maybe I just had some bread? Honestly, I can't really remember."

I sighed, strangely relieved. "Okay. So you don't…_miss_ human food, do you?"

"No," Esme said immediately. "None of us miss it. The very thought of food seems a bit unappetizing, really. And of course, if we try to eat food, we can't digest it."

"Yeah, Edward told me about that part," I said, taking a deep breath and enjoying the scent of the brownies. "It's just, it's hard to imagine that soon, something like this won't smell delicious."

Esme stepped forward again and kissed me on the cheek. "Don't worry, sweetheart. You'll be changing soon, yes, but you'll still be you in all the ways that really matter. Knowing how adaptable you are, I'm sure that you'll get used to everything before you know it."

"Thanks, Esme," I said, giving her an awkward hug as I held the brownies. "See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Bella!" Esme called, getting into Carlisle's Mercedes and driving away. I smiled down at the brownies and headed back inside to share them with Charlie. I was happy, and excited for the wedding, and more excited for the honeymoon…but beneath my eagerness and anxiety, I still couldn't help but wonder: what would my last human meal be? And how soon would I be eating it?


	160. Eyes

Happy Fourth of July, everyone! Until I read "The Official Illustrated Guide," I wasn't sure when exactly Carlisle migrated to North America, but now that I know that he arrived in the early 18th century, I've wanted to do a chapter where Carlisle talked about that a bit (or rather, just because he was here, he might not have been aware of many historical events, at least not on the days they actually happened). So, here's a quick chapter about that. Thanks for all your great reviews, and I'll see you again on Sunday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 136 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1!

_2007_: Eyes

Nessie's POV

It was the Fourth of July, and Nessie was excited; everyone was going to run to Seattle later to see the fireworks. Nessie had seen fireworks on TV and in pictures, but this would be the first time she'd seen them in person. In the meantime though, it was a sunny day, and everyone was staying inside. Mom and dad were in dad's old room, Rosalie and Alice were going through Nessie's old clothes, and Jasper and Emmett were playing video games and trying not to break the controllers every five minutes. Grandma was downstairs making lunch for the wolves, so Nessie was in grandpa's office, looking at books while he checked his e-mail.

"Grandpa," Nessie said, looking up from the book she'd been reading. "Where were you on the first Fourth of July?"

"Philadelphia," grandpa said, looking up from his computer. "It was the biggest city in the country back then, so I liked living there. It was easy for me to blend in."

"Did you know something special was going on that day?" Nessie asked, examining the illustration in the history book she'd been reading: in it, people were celebrating a victory against the British during the Revolutionary War.

"Not really," grandpa said. "I was busy working all day, so I just remember the patients I saw that day, most of whom didn't know much about what was happening in politics then. I was keeping up with it in the newspapers, but my office was in a poor section of town, and most people couldn't read. And really, I read later that the Declaration of Independence was actually completed on July second, not the fourth. Most people didn't celebrate the day as a holiday until the next year, and we celebrate because that was the day the declaration was finished. It wasn't signed until August."

"Is that you in this picture?" Nessie asked, bringing her book over to grandpa's desk. In it was a picture of a parade, and grandpa chuckled when Nessie pointed to a man with blond hair.

"No, that's not me," he said. "See? His eyes are blue."

"Oh," Nessie said, studying the picture. "And really, his hair looks different too. I guess I just imagine that you looked like this when you were human. Were your eyes blue then?"

"That was a long time ago," grandpa said thoughtfully. "Let's see, did I have blue eyes?"  
"What, you don't remember?" Nessie demanded. "You remember the patients you saw hundreds of years ago today, but you can't remember what color your eyes were before you were changed?"

"There was no mirror in my father's house," grandpa explained, "so I almost never saw my own reflection while I was alive. My father thought things like that promoted vanity. Let's see, did he have grey or blue eyes…hmm, it's a good question, but one I'm afraid I can't answer."

Nessie shrugged. "That's all right, I'm just surprised you don't remember. I guess it doesn't really matter though. I like your eyes the way they are now."

"Thank you," grandpa said, tousling her hair. "Yours are pretty too though. They're just like Charlie's, and just like your mother's used to be."

"See, that's why I'd thought you know what color yours were," Nessie said. "Everyone always tells me that about my eyes. Didn't your father do that?"

"No, but my father was a very different person than yours," grandpa pointed out. "He never said much about the way I looked, unless he thought I needed a haircut, but who knows. Maybe I had the same eyes as my mother, and it made him sad to think about that."

"Maybe," Nessie said, climbing up onto grandpa's lap and giving him a hug. It always made her a little sad to think about grandpa's life; he'd been alone for so long before he'd become a part of a family, and it was hard for Nessie to imagine a life that wasn't surrounded by loving parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. "Well, let's just say that your eyes used to be blue."

"Okay," grandpa said, leaning down and kissing her on the forehead.

"So, how much longer until we should get ready to go to Seattle?" Nessie asked.

Grandpa looked at the clock on his laptop. "I'd say that we should leave in…another four hours."  
Nessie sighed. Everyone was always telling her that she was growing up so fast, but time always seemed to stand still when she was waiting for something. Still, it was nice to sit with grandpa, so together, they read the rest of the history book while waiting to go see the fireworks.


	161. Contest

Hi everyone! Sorry for updating two days late (and with only one chapter no less), but I had to go to a friend's wedding this weekend, and it ended up being a lot of fun…so much fun that I wasn't able to finish the chapters I'd started for this week. :) The good news here is that this Sunday, I'm hoping to have three chapters ready, but as always, we'll see. Today, I've got a short chapter about the sort of thing that the Cullens might do for fun together. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again on Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 128 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! :)

_1951_: Contest

Emmett's POV

After a day of intense heat and oppressive humidity (which hadn't bothered Emmett or the other Cullens, but they'd made sure to complain about it in the presence of classmates in their summer school courses, co-workers in Carlisle's case, or in Esme's case, the neighbor she met at the post office), the evening was growing cool. It was July, so the sun didn't set until after nine o'clock, but when it was finally dark, everyone went outside. Emmett was excited: they weren't going to be hunting that night. Instead, they were going to have a contest of sorts.

"All right, is everyone ready?" Alice called.

"You know we are, Alice," Emmett said, rolling his eyes. "What, are you stalling? Afraid your legs are too short to keep up?"

Alice gave him a frosty look. "I am going to pretend I didn't hear that. All right, on three. One…two…three!"

Emmett grinned and took off running. After a long day of hot weather, some families might take a trip to the beach together. Others might plan a vacation to a cool climate. Tonight, Emmett and the rest of the family were racing from their home in southern Ontario to the North Pole.

It was the kind of activity that Carlisle and Esme usually frowned upon, for the simple fact that if anyone spotted them, questions might be asked and suspicions aroused. But running at night was fairly safe—humans who saw them could rarely tell that they'd even seen a human shape, and all of them moved too fast for even a human in a car to keep up with them. And ever since Alice and Jasper had shown up, Alice's talent had made it possible to predict whether or not they would be spotted by humans during any given family outing. It was, Emmett marveled, wonderfully convenient to have a psychic for a sister.

Emmett heard the others running around him, but he tried not to look around as he ran steadily north through wind and rain that gradually turned to snow as night turned to early morning while they ran. After a while, Emmett started to wonder how he would even know the North Pole when he saw it. As a kid, he'd always pictured it as a literal pole, like a flag pole, but now he knew it was just magnetic north, a nondescript place in the middle of the Arctic. Was there even a marker there? Before they'd started, Edward had suggested what he'd considered a solution to the problem.

"I can see in Alice's head where we're all going to end up," he'd said smugly. "And since I'm probably going to win this race, I can be the finish line marker for everyone else."

"Like hell you can!" Emmett had said, but after hours of running, Emmett's hopes of coming in first were dashed when he saw a human figure standing unconcerned in a field of ice in the distance.

"Dammit!" Emmett shouted, realizing (with more irritation than surprise) that it was indeed Edward standing ahead of him, looking very smug as he stood alone in the middle of a vast expanse of frozen tundra. The clouds above were thinning a little, and Edward's skin shone in the sunlight of the arctic night.

"I win," Edward said with a smile, and Emmett cursed again.

"How long have you been here?" he demanded.

Edward shrugged. "A few minutes, I suppose."

"Ha, so you didn't beat me by much!" Emmett said. "Come on, let's have a rematch on the way home. This time I'll beat you."

"Fine, but first we have to wait for the others to get here, your wife included," Edward said, nodding at a distant figure sprinting toward them. A few seconds later, Rosalie appeared, looking furious.

"You both beat me?" Rosalie said incredulously. "How the hell did that happen?"

"Sorry," Emmett said cheerfully.

"It's only because your legs are longer than mine," Rosalie muttered irritably, but then she glanced around the otherwise empty tundra. "Well, I guess third place isn't so bad. At least I beat everyone else."

"And we can have a rematch on the way home," Emmett promised, pulling her close and kissing her. "Don't worry, you've got another chance to win. I'm not going to go easy on you though."

"I'd only be angry if you did," Rosalie said with a reluctant smile. "What's the prize for winning this race anyway? A real contest should have a prize."

"A new car," Edward said with a grin. "Alice told me."

"No!" Rosalie groaned. "Now I wish there hadn't been a prize…"

"I was due for a new car anyway," Edward pointed out, but Rosalie wasn't listening. She was watching a fourth person approach their little group.

"Fourth place!" Alice sang, skating gracefully across the ice and stopping in front of the other three.

"What, you beat Jasper?" Emmett wondered. "How?"

"A block of ice broke under me and I fell down a ravine," Jasper called, appearing suddenly behind Alice. He seemed amused. "_Someone_ forgot to tell me that she saw me falling and losing to her by a few seconds."

"Do you really think that I would be that devious?" Alice said, putting on a very phony expression of offense.

"Yes," Jasper said immediately, but he put his arm around her, and though he hadn't won, he seemed more cheerful than usual. Emmett smiled at them. Having a new brother and sister around had been a lot of fun so far, if only because it was interesting, after fifteen years of life as a Cullen, to have different people to talk to for a change.

"We should have the Denalis come along next time," Emmett suggested.

"They'd win though," Alice pointed out. "I can see it. They know every detail of their territory, which includes this area, though there's not much here to hunt."

"There's only a few hours left until daylight back home," Jasper observed.

"It'll be cloudy today," Alice promised. "And it's Saturday, so no school."

"And who cares if we skip summer classes anyway?" Emmett wondered. "Our teachers will probably get suspicious if we don't skip at least some days, since everyone else does."

"So, just Carlisle and Esme are left now," Rosalie said, glancing around impatiently. "Where are they?"

"They're going to tie for last place," Alice said with a smile.

"What?" Emmett said. "Why? Or do I really want to know?"

"No," Alice said, making a face at whatever vision she'd had. "They got…sidetracked. They're trying to fix their clothing now."

Everyone groaned. "Can't we just go home without them?" Rosalie asked.

"I think they'll get the idea when they pick up our scents going away from the place we were all supposed to meet," Edward said, rolling his eyes. "Ready, Emmett?"

"Ready!" Emmett said, preparing to start, but then Rosalie tugged on his sleeve, motioning for him to lean down.

"Want to get _sidetracked_ on the way home?" Rosalie purred into his ear, and Emmett grinned. Edward was going to win the race home too, there was no question of that now, but Emmett still felt like a winner as he scanned the horizon for a quiet ravine that he and Rosalie could "accidentally" fall into for the sake of a little privacy—he didn't want Carlisle and Esme spotting them if they followed the others' scents here.

"Ready, set, go!" Alice shouted, and still grinning, Emmett started running again, Rosalie beside him.


	162. Treaty

Hi everyone! Today's first chapter is about a scene I've often thought about: what it was like when the Cullens first met Ephraim Black's pack, and how the treaty between the Cullens and the Quileutes came about. (In this chapter, I assume that an actual physical treaty was signed; maybe Old Quil has the original copy in the time that "Twilight" takes place). You're getting three chapters this week, because it really looks like I'm going to have a job soon, and when I start working full time, I'll probably be cutting back to one chapter per week, though I'm hoping to stick with two. (Also, right before "Breaking Dawn" Part 1 comes out, I want to do my usual thing and do one chapter per day for several days leading up the movie :)). We'll see though—first I need to do well in a couple of interviews, so please keep your fingers crossed for me! (My mom is a lovely person, but I'm twenty-four, and I'd kind of like to be able to live on my own again…) Thanks as always for your reviews, and look for two more chapters after this! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 123 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! :)

_1936_: Treaty

Carlisle's POV

It was a warm, cloudy day, and Carlisle was enjoying hunting for the first time since they'd moved to their new home in Washington. They'd only settled into their new house a few days before, and after several abnormally sunny days, everyone had been eager to get outside today and quench their thirst. However, there was something strange about the forest around the house, something that Carlisle couldn't quite put his finger on. It was a kind of animal smell, but it didn't belong to any animal Carlisle recognized; it certainly wasn't human, yet there was something human about the way the smell burned his nose. It wasn't tempting though; on the contrary, it was a sort of unpleasant scent, and faint as it was, Carlisle was certain that he'd smelled it before. Still, he didn't mention it to anyone else; it was too hard to describe, and in any case, as soon as a small herd of deer appeared, all Carlisle's thoughts of the odd smell temporarily vanished.

Esme first noticed the scent while Rosalie and Emmett were burying a deer carcass together. Edward was a few yards away, still draining his own kill.

"Do you smell that?" she asked, having finished with a deer of her own. "It's sort of…well, I don't know what it smells like. Carnivore, I think, except it doesn't smell appetizing."

Carlisle frowned. "Now that you mention it, yes, I've noticed it too. I smelled something like this the last time I visited this area, but that was a good two hundred years ago…"

And then all at once, there was a huge wolf standing at the foot of the hill that Carlisle and Esme were standing on. It had approached so quickly and quietly that Carlisle hadn't even heard it coming, yet it was nearly the size of a small horse. In an instant, Rosalie, Emmett, and Edward were standing beside them, and Carlisle was trying to move in front of Esme, feeling an instinct he couldn't explain to protect her, to shield her from the thing.

"Don't," Esme said, touching his shoulder and moving to stand beside him. "Look, there's only one. Honey, it's big, but one wolf's not going to hurt us."

"There's three of them," Edward whispered, and something about his shocked tone made everyone turn to look at him. A few yards away, the wolf was growling softly, its hackles raised in fear or anger, but it seemed unable to move out of its crouch, either to attack or to flee.

"What is it, Edward?" Carlisle said.

"Guys, why are we not hunting this thing yet?" Emmett demanded, but he didn't move forward.

"Can't you smell it?" Rosalie asked. "I'm not eating that. I don't care if it is a carnivore. It stinks."

"It's…thinking," Edward whispered. "Carlisle, that's not a wolf. That's a man. He turned into a wolf. I can hear it…"

The wolf abruptly stopped growling, and though it was hard to tell from its canine features, Carlisle got the feeling that the wolf was as surprised as Edward was.

"What?" Esme whispered, and she gripped Carlisle's arm tightly, though she seemed more amazed than afraid.

"There are two others coming," Edward said quickly. "He…spoke to them somehow. I can hear their thoughts."

"So let's hurry up and kill it before the others show up!" Emmett said.

"Emmett, didn't you hear me?" Edward demanded. "That's not really a wolf. He's human."

"That's impossible," Rosalie said flatly, but she sniffed the air and took a step toward Emmett as two more wolves entered the clearing at the bottom of the hill, moving at a slow trot.

"They can't be werewolves," Carlisle said quietly. "The moon won't be full for another week yet, and besides, they're out in the middle of the afternoon."

For several seconds, the three wolves stared at the Cullens, all of them silent, and the Cullens stared back.

"Oh," Edward said suddenly. "Carlisle, this is their land. They came to kill us before we can kill any humans—these three are all from the Quileute tribe, the tribe that lives in this area. They know what we are, though we're the first of our kind to come here in a long time. They turn into wolves to defend their tribe from…they keep thinking the words 'cold ones.' That would be us, I suppose."

Rosalie hissed. "Kill us? Good luck with that. Let's kill these mutts before—"

"We don't mean you any harm," Carlisle said quietly, meeting the dark eyes of the wolves. They'd been frozen in shock ever since Edward had spoken, clearly baffled by his ability to read their minds. "I apologize for trespassing, but you should know that my family and I were only hunting deer. We don't hunt humans."

The largest wolf growled softly, and Edward, his shock fading, smiled faintly.

"He doesn't believe you, in case you couldn't guess."

"You can tell by our eyes," Carlisle explained. "When our kind feed on human blood, their eyes turn red, but animal blood turns our eyes yellow. My family chooses not to drink human blood."

The wolves, who Carlisle now realized were standing in a formation, appeared to confer. The wolf in the center, the largest, turned and glanced at the two beside him before turning back to the Cullens.

"They wonder what we're playing at," Edward explained, and the wolves, who didn't seem to appreciate Edward's ability to hear what they were thinking, growled again. "They wonder how I can hear their thoughts, and they can't understand why we don't attack even though we outnumber them."

"Yeah, I'm wondering that too," Rosalie muttered.

"My son Edward can hear everyone's thoughts, and we honestly don't intend to harm you," Carlisle said firmly, fighting the urge to glare at Rosalie. Under any other circumstances, he would have been happy just to hear her speaking in his presence for a change, but for once, all he wanted was for her to resume her usual sullen silence. "You see, we've just moved to the area. I work as a doctor at the hospital, and we don't want to draw the attention of humans, for their safety as well as ours. Is there any way we can come to some sort of arrangement—say, if we stay off your land, you'll allow us to hunt animals in the forests nearby without telling other humans what you know?"

The wolves looked at each other. Though their expressions were hard to read, it was clear that they were deep in silent conversation.

Edward smiled slightly again as he turned to Carlisle. "They're not thrilled about letting us live nearby, but since we outnumber them, they feel they don't have a choice. Also, they can't see that we have any reason to lie about hunting animals, and if we'd intended to kill them, we would have done so already. Essentially, they believe us, but they don't trust us. That means that they want to have this agreement in writing."

* * *

It only took a few minutes for Rosalie and Emmett to run back to the house (Carlisle didn't want anyone leaving alone, in case the wolves changed their minds and decided to attack), where they found plenty of paper, pens, and bottles of ink, and brought them back to the clearing, where Carlisle sat down on a large rock and drew a map of the area as Edward described it to him by looking into the wolves' minds.

"All right," Carlisle said at last. "So, the boundary line will be here, mostly following the main road. Our territory includes this area, while Forks and the other towns in the region are neutral land, while your territory is La Push and the area extending from the reservation to the river. As for the treaty, if we agree not to trespass in your territory or hunt anything but animals while we reside here, will you agree not to expose us to humans or attempt to attack us, provided we stay within our territory?"

The wolves stared at Carlisle, but judging by Edward's expression, it was clear that they were discussing something.

"Not hunting humans isn't good enough," he said finally. "They want us to agree not to bite any humans for as long as we live here. Biting a human, and making them one of us, would be just as bad as killing someone in their opinion. Worse even."

Carlisle nodded. "I can understand that. I used to feel the same."

Rosalie snorted. Carlisle could sense her disgust with this whole process, but he was relieved that she and Emmett had both stopped talking about attacking the wolves. Edward had apparently convinced them that the wolves were really human, or maybe they were just put off by their scent. Either way, Carlisle was grateful that it looked as though a fight could be avoided. It stood to reason that if the tribe that these men came from had encountered vampires before and had survived that meeting, then these wolves must be as dangerous to immortals at the children of the moon were. Carlisle wondered if they would have attacked if it had been five wolves against five vampires, and he tried not to shudder at the mental image of one of the huge wolves baring his fangs at Esme or any of the others.

Esme sat beside him as he wrote out the treaty. Like Edward, she was apparently more curious than repulsed by the wolves, though she seemed unable to speak to them. After all, what was there to say? 'Thank you for not attacking us?' Carlisle tried not to sigh. He believed that the wolves would honor their agreement not to attack—if only because they were outnumbered—but staying here for long wouldn't be safe. Though they'd just moved to the area, it might be wise to relocate sooner rather than later.

"All right," Carlisle said at last. He read the treaty aloud, and when the wolves didn't object to any point, Carlisle signed his name at the bottom. He passed it to Esme who signed as well, then Edward took it before offering it to Rosalie.

"I'm not signing that," Rosalie muttered furiously.

"Rosalie, wolves like these have killed our kind before," Edward pointed out, his voice cool. "I can hear it in their heads. You said you liked this place, because we can seem human here. If we want to stay here, it'll only be safe if we agree to this."

"Rose," Emmett said gently, but Rosalie was already snatching the pen out of Edward's hand and signing her name with angry swiftness.

Carlisle sighed quietly, relieved when Rosalie passed the pen to Emmett. It was clear that if Rosalie was appeased, then so was he. They were really only there to visit anyway; they'd been living on their own ever since they'd married, and Emmett and Rosalie would only be living in the Olympic Peninsula with the rest of the family until their new house was finished.

_Thank you Edward_, Carlisle thought—though Rosalie didn't like Edward much, at least she would grudgingly listen to him. Carlisle had learned by now that if he asked Rosalie to do something, she would do her very best to either ignore his request or do the exact opposite.

"Will you sign it?" Carlisle asked, looking at the wolves.

They stared back at him, then turned and disappeared into the trees.

"Hey!" Rosalie said furiously. "After all that, they're just—"

"They're going to change back into their human forms," Edward said, rolling his eyes at Rosalie. "They aren't running away."

"I wonder what it's like," Esme murmured, leaning closer to Carlisle, and he put his arm around her. "Going back and forth between wolf and human, I mean. You know, until today, I never completely believed your story about werewolves."

"And these aren't even really werewolves, in the traditional sense of the word," Carlisle whispered. There was movement in the trees now, and a few seconds later, three men emerged from the forest.

All three were very tall and muscular. They were dressed in worn-looking clothes, and Carlisle realized that he'd seen the clothes before: they'd been attached to the wolves' hind legs by loose ropes, and they'd obviously grown a bit tattered in the course of the wolves' journeys through the woods. Their hair was cut short, and their skin was a warm copper color. None of the men looked much older than Carlisle did.

"I'm Ephraim Black," said the tallest man, who was clearly their leader. Though his tone was very cautious, Carlisle appreciated his effort to be civil. "This is Quil Ateara and Levi Uley."

"I'm sorry we didn't introduce ourselves before," Carlisle said, nodding in Ephraim's direction—it didn't seem like an attempt to shake hands would be well received. "I'm Carlisle Cullen. This is my wife, Esme, and these are our children, Edward, Rosalie, and Emmett."

Ephraim nodded at the Cullens. Then he looked at the treaty, and Carlisle offered him the pen. Ephraim was careful not to touch Carlisle's hand as he took both items, and as Carlisle watched him sign the piece of paper, Carlisle wondered what this treaty would really mean for the two groups. Would it secure a lasting peace between their two families, and even lead to friendship in time…or was it destined to be broken, either accidentally or intentionally by a member of either coven or tribe? As the other two men signed, Carlisle held Esme's hand tightly. It was comforting to think that whatever this treaty might lead to, he would be able to face it with Esme beside him.


	163. Recognition

Hi again! Here's a chapter about what I imagine it might have been like for the Cullens on one of those rare occasions when a human realized what they were and called them on it. I imagine that they'd have to leave rather quickly, though they'd have to set everything up to look like there was a reasonable explanation for their moving so suddenly. Thanks again for your reviews (they are really, really, wonderful :)), and look for one more chapter after this!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is still the author of "Twilight," and I can't believe the Harry Potter series is over—it was a _decade_ ago that I stood in line to get tickets for "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone"! (How am I going to feel when "Breaking Dawn" Part 2 comes out?)

_1979_: Recognition

Rosalie's POV

The note was in her locker when Rosalie went to grab her history book after lunch. It read simply:

_I know you're a vampire. I want to be one too. Make me like you, or I'll tell everyone what the Cullens and the Hales really are._

"Oh," Rosalie breathed, "crap."

* * *

"We have a problem," she said. As soon as school had ended, Rosalie had told the others what had happened (though of course Edward and Alice already knew), and by the time they got home, Carlisle and Esme were waiting for them in the dining room, where the family always met to discuss anything important. As Rosalie read the note aloud for everyone, it quickly became clear just how important it was to deal with the current problem carefully.

Emmett sighed as soon as Rosalie finished reading. "So, we're moving again, huh?"

"Yup," Alice said grimly, her expression gloomy.

"Why didn't you see this coming?" Rosalie demanded.

"I did!" Alice said irritably. "Remember, just before lunch ended, I grabbed your hand and told you that we needed to talk, but you said you had to run to your locker first, and then you took off, and…" Alice sighed. "Honestly, I've been keeping an eye on this girl for a while now. She's been watching us, wondering, but she didn't put a lot of thought into writing this note—I only saw her do it a minute or so before it happened. The idea must have come to her suddenly."

"You're right," Edward said quietly. "I've been listening, and she hasn't been planning this. I heard her thinking something interesting near the end of lunch today though, right before Alice saw her writing the note. Apparently, she checked out "Interview with the Vampire" from the school library this morning."

Everyone groaned.

"I hate, hate, _hate_ that stupid book!" Rosalie said furiously.

"It _has_ caused our kind a lot of problems in the past few years," Carlisle said wearily. "Honestly, I think the author will be lucky if she doesn't receive a visit from the Volturi."

"It's full of inaccuracies though," Esme pointed out. "It's obvious that she's just telling a story about what she imagines vampires are like. Would she really be punished for that?"

"Probably not, but there's no question that the popularity of the book is unwelcome," Carlisle said. "Thanks to Lestat, vampires are in vogue again. Honestly, I don't think things have been this bad since "Dracula" was first published."

"So when do we leave?" Rosalie asked, and Emmett put his arm around her; now that it was clear that they would have to move, and soon, to avoid further scrutiny from their curious classmate, her anger was fading, and Rosalie prepared to resign herself to the inevitable chores that relocating entailed.

"It's Wednesday, so you should probably stay at school until Friday," Esme said.

Carlisle nodded. "That will give me time to announce at work tonight that I've found a new job and that we're going to be moving. No one will be too shocked if I say that the job starts on Monday. We can be long gone by then."

"At least it's only the beginning of the semester," Emmett said with a shrug. "It's not like we're changing schools in October or something."

"Yeah, but it's still infuriating," Rosalie grumbled. "Some stupid human can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality and _we_ have to suffer for it?"

"Lestat's not real, but we are," Alice said dryly. "Technically, I think this girl has a better than average grasp of the true nature of reality."

Rosalie made a face, but she didn't argue.

"I know we all prefer to use the surnames Cullen and Hale, but we should probably use aliases for a while," Carlisle said grimly. "How fast can you get new passports ready for all of us, Jasper?"

"Two or three days," Jasper said immediately. "I've been keeping up with the changes they've made to passports recently, and they're getting more and more complicated all the time. Still, they can be duplicated relatively easily. We could head to Denali for a few days, I'll finish all our papers, and we can be in Europe this time next week."

"All right," Carlisle said with a sigh. "Well, does everyone want to start packing tonight? There are plenty of suitcases in the attic, and tomorrow, weather permitting, I'll go pick up some cardboard boxes."

"It'll be cloudy," Alice promised, her expression grim again. "Unless the sun suddenly decides to come out—I guess today was a good reminder that we can't trust my predictions one hundred percent. And that humans are harder to predict than the weather."

"I'll call about scheduling a moving truck first thing in the morning," Esme said with a sigh. "Of course, this would happen just when I'd finally finished fixing up this house…"

"Sorry," Carlisle said, squeezing her hand.

Rosalie sighed. Just as she always did when something like this happened, she wondered if there was something she could have done to seem more human, to deflect attention better so as to keep any humans from guessing the truth. As much as she wished to stand out, to be admired for her beauty, this was another reminder of the potential drawbacks of too much recognition.


	164. Pillows

Hi again! Today's last chapter is mostly just a fun scene between Carlisle and Esme (I've been doing a lot of Cullen family chapters lately, so here's one that's mostly just the two of them :)). Thanks once again for all of your wonderfully uplifting reviews, and I'll see you again next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer always has been, and always will be, the author of "Twilight." :)

_2006_: Pillows

Esme's POV

A thunderstorm had just begun when Esme heard Alice calling everyone to the living room.

"I just thought you should know that everything's fine," Alice said, a smug smile on her face, "and that Edward and Bella are enjoying their honeymoon so far. Very much so, in fact."

Rosalie made a face. "Okay, I didn't really need to know that."

"Yeah," Emmett said, chuckling. "I mean, I'm glad Bella's not dead or anything, but spare me the specifics of how much fun they're having."

"Fine, fine," Alice said, waving her hands dismissively. "That's all I'm going to say. I just thought everyone would want to know."

"Can you see when they'll be back?" Carlisle said, his expression serious. "I'm glad everything's going well now, but once they return, we're going to have to discuss Bella's future."

Alice frowned. "That's a little foggy right now. It looks like they're going to be on the island for at least a week or so. I can't tell what's going to happen after that."

"We'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it then," Esme said, taking Carlisle's hand. "In the meantime, I'm just glad they're okay."

Alice sighed. "They're more than okay, really—"

"Ah, I don't need to hear this!" Emmett said, covering his ears and running outside into the rain with Rosalie, who looked faintly ill. Jasper seemed amused by the others' discomfort, but he quickly made himself scarce as Alice continued to smile mischievously. Carlisle excused himself to get a book from his study, and then it was just Alice and Esme standing in the living room.

"Esme," Alice said quietly. "One quick thing, before you go back upstairs."

"Yes?" Esme said curiously, not sure if she really needed to hear any more details of her son's honeymoon.

"Pillows," Alice said, her expression amused.

"Pillows?" Esme repeated.

"Edward's already destroyed a lot of pillows in the house on the island," Alice explained. "I just thought I'd tell you now, so you won't be surprised later when you get a bill from the caretakers. They'll be coming to the island soon, to clean up and fix everything that Edward…breaks."

Esme blinked. Now she wasn't sure if Alice's expression was amused or embarrassed. "This is one of those times where you've seen more than you really wanted to see, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Alice said, shaking her head as if trying to dispel a memory. "Sorry, but since I have to live with it, I feel a sort of sadistic urge to share my knowledge."

Esme laughed. "Fair enough. I'll keep your tip in mind when I pay the bills next month."

Alice disappeared then to find Jasper, so Esme went upstairs, grinning as she entered the room she shared with Carlisle, took out her sketchpad, and did a few drawings of some plans she had for their next house. Carlisle joined her after a few minutes, and Esme smiled when he came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Poor Alice," she said with a chuckle. "Did you hear what she told me?"

"Yes, and I think it's a miracle that neither she nor Edward has expired from embarrassment after all these years," Carlisle said. "Having to hear and see all the things we think and do…I think it's harder than they let on, particularly in a situation like this when one of them would like the other to have some privacy."

"I feel sorry for Alice, but I'm happy to know that Edward and Bella are doing all right," Esme said, and when Carlisle was silent, she turned to look at him.

"You're worried about what comes next, aren't you?"

Carlisle nodded. "Tanya and her sisters managed to perfect their technique for getting close to humans safely..."

"But as I recall, it took a rather alarming amount of trial and error before they learned how to not kill their lovers," Esme said.

"Exactly," Carlisle murmured. "I hardly dared hope that Edward would manage not to hurt Bella if they really tried to have a real honeymoon—I half expected him to have changed her by now, if only to heal injuries he himself might have caused. Now that he's managed to keep her human and safe for this long, it's only going to be harder to change her when they come home. He's going to hate watching Bella say goodbye to her human family, her whole human life…"

"It's her choice," Esme said firmly. "Bella knows that this is going to be hard, but she's decided that it's worth it to be with Edward."

"She's going to struggle so much though, having to watch her parents age while she stays eighteen forever," Carlisle said sadly.

"Children are supposed to outlive their parents," Esme said quietly. "Or at least, most parents would prefer their children to live longer than they do. Yes, it will be hard for Bella, but if we decide to go through with a funeral for her…oh, I just can't imagine having to see Charlie and Renée looking down at Bella, lying in a coffin!"

"We'll disappear for a few years instead then," Carlisle said quickly, wrapping his arms around her. "We've done it before—"

"But in a way, that will be even worse," Esme said miserably. "They'll always wonder what happened to her. Believing she's dead might honestly be better than spending the rest of their lives not knowing."

Both Esme and Carlisle were silent for a moment. After the joyful occasion that the wedding had been, the bleak knowledge of the reality of Edward and Bella's situation had returned with unpleasant swiftness. Ever since the wedding guests, human and immortal, had left the house, the Cullens had all been on edge—Esme could tell that all of her children were uneasy, even Rosalie, whose usually icy mask had faltered in the hours since her brother and new sister-in-law had left for Isle Esme. They all tried to hide it from one another, feigning confidence and telling one another that everything would be decided once Edward and Bella got back…but the trouble was, there was no decision they could make that wouldn't cause Bella and her human family pain, to say nothing of provoking a serious and potentially deadly quarrel with the Quileutes.

Carlisle was especially tense—Esme could feel it in the way he stood behind her, his arms around her but his thoughts clearly very far away. Esme wished that she could say something, _anything_ that would comfort him, but she knew that he felt just as helpless as she did. More than anything, both of them wanted to find a way to save Edward and Bella from the pain that was coming…but there was no way to do that. All they could do was wait and see how Bella's life as a human would end.

"Moping like this isn't going to help us," Esme said with a sigh, standing up and turning to kiss him.

Carlisle nodded and even smiled faintly. "You're right. So, in lieu of moping, how should we spend the afternoon? I don't work until eight."

Esme smiled and crossed the room to stand by the bed, remembering what Alice had told her. "You know, I think it's about time we replaced our pillows," she said slyly.

Carlisle smiled eagerly, but instead of pouncing on him, Esme snatched a pillow off the bed and tossed it at him. Carlisle caught it in the air and grinned at her.

"Should I interpret this as a challenge?" he asked, but Esme was already throwing another pillow at him. This time, he knocked it out of the air, but by then Esme was upon him, giggling and attempting to hit him with a pillow. Soon, they were both laughing and chasing each other around the room, and pillows were exploding left and right. A few minutes later, the bedroom was full of feathers, which whirled around like falling snow, and when there were no pillows left, Esme shut the door and locked it so she and Carlisle could enjoy the aftermath of their pillow fight in relative privacy. There would be pain the future, there would be suffering, but for a little while, they were going to forget about that and enjoy the carnage they'd left in the wake of the destruction of their pillows.


	165. Job

Hi everyone! In this week's first chapter, Jasper gets a part-time job, and Carlisle gives him some tips on working with humans. I have jobs on the brain this week because I finally got a job! Well, technically, I have two jobs now: one starts next week (hopefully), and the other doesn't start until October, so in celebration of my being employed again, you're getting three chapters again this week! Thanks as always for your reviews, and look for two more chapters after this one! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 116 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! (Also, has anyone else seen the "Breaking Dawn" promo cards from Comic-Con? So pretty! :))

_1978_: Job

Jasper's POV

"All right," Carlisle said, pulling on his coat. "Ready to go?"

Jasper nodded, zipping up his own jacket. It was a chilly January morning, and outside, snow was falling lightly, so Jasper also pulled on a scarf and gloves, just for show.

"Good luck, Jasper," Esme said, kissing him on the cheek. "I know you'll do fine today."

"Thanks, Esme," Jasper said, and she smiled encouragingly at him before turning to kiss Carlisle. To Jasper's relief, they stepped apart before he could start to feel uncomfortable; Carlisle and Esme, unlike Rosalie and Emmett, were aware of the discomfort that public displays of affection could cause. Of course, he and Alice could be just as bad as they were sometimes.

"See you later," Carlisle said, and Esme waved as they stepped outside.

Jasper was silent as he got into Carlisle's car. He still wasn't completely sure that what he had planned was a good idea, but he was determined to try. Today was Jasper's first day of work; this would be the first real job he'd had since joining the army over a century before, and though Jasper was uneasy, he was looking forward to it too. It would be nice to talk to people outside of school for once, and Alice had assured him before she'd left for class that morning that he wasn't going to kill anyone today, which in Jasper's book was reassuring, if not exactly encouraging.

"You're going to have a hard time at first," she'd admitted. "But you'll enjoy working. It's more fun than school in some ways at least, and it isn't quite so repetitive. Plus, at least you'll get paid to be bored at work. In college, _we_ pay to be bored."

Jasper had laughed at that. "You're majoring in fashion design again, so I know you aren't bored at school."

"True," Alice had said, "but you're majoring in philosophy again, and much as that subject interests you, I know you're bored with the freshman level classes right now. A job's going to provide you with some much needed entertainment."

_ Unless I get too thirsty_, Jasper thought now, sitting in Carlisle's car as they drove toward town. _Then what started as entertaining could very quickly become dangerous._

It only took a few minutes to get to the bookstore where Jasper would be working. It was a squat brick building on the edge of campus, and though Jasper had been considering finding a part-time job for some time, now that he actually had one, the prospect of having to go inside and work side by side with humans for hours made him feel distinctly nervous.

"Don't worry," Carlisle said quietly. "Esme's right, you know. You're going to do fine."

"Alice makes mistakes though," Jasper muttered. "She said I'd be fine too, but if I get thirsty all of a sudden—"

"Then make yourself get away from your co-workers for a few minutes," Carlisle said patiently. "Excuse yourself to use the restroom, or you could buy some cigarettes so you can step outside and pretend to smoke. Just be aware of how thirsty you are, and if you have to, find a way to be alone for a little while. If you feel like you're starting to lose control, just leave. You wouldn't be the first person to quit a part-time job without notice."

Jasper took a deep breath. "Okay." _I can do this, _he told himself._ Carlisle wouldn't let me even try if I wasn't able to do this._

"Alice will pick you up around three," Carlisle said. "Good luck, Jasper."

"Thanks," Jasper said, stepping out of the car and taking several breaths of fresh air before plunging into the warm bookstore. The scent of humans was heavy in the air, and Jasper's throat burned, but the reassuring scent of books was also very strong, and with that to balance out the smell of human blood, it was a little easier than usual to ignore his thirst, even when the manager who'd hired him greeted Jasper and started showing him around.

The day passed surprisingly quickly. The manager, whose name was Doug, had Jasper do a few simple tasks like cutting out coupons and organizing books before showing him how to use the cash register—that was the hardest part of the day, because while Doug showed him which buttons to push, there were humans all around him—a thin girl named Tamara stood at the register next to Jasper's, and a woman named Colleen worked at a desk nearby, taking inventory and handling returns. And of course, there were the customers—it was the beginning of the semester, so lots of people came in to buy books, but their constant movement and the faint smell of damp given off by the heaters made the pull of their blood a little easier to ignore—Jasper had learned long ago that if he focused on the unpleasant smells that often surrounded humans, the smell of blood became slightly less tantalizing.

Aside from the inescapable problem of blood lust, Jasper found that he did like working. As Alice had said, at least it was more interesting than school. Jasper wasn't the only new employee, but he was happy to see that in spite of his thirst-related distraction, he didn't make any mistakes, and every manager who supervised him seemed pleased by his work.

_I'm the perfect employee so far_, Jasper thought wryly. _A photographic memory will do that for you. Of course, the worst the other new cashiers can do is entering something wrong on the register. There's not much danger of any of them leaping across the counter and slaughtering someone._

Jasper was pleased to discover that he didn't have to slip away at any point in the day to take a break from the smell of humans though. When he'd first joined the Cullens, it would have been impossible for him to be so close to so many humans for hours on end. Now, though it wasn't exactly easy, it was bearable.

When Alice picked him up at three, she looked happy about something, and she was grinning as she kissed him.

"So, how was your day?" she asked cheerfully, driving toward home.

Jasper smiled. "You already know it went well. If I can manage not to kill anyone, I just might win employee of the month."

Alice laughed, but then her smile grew gentler. "You know that I can see part of why you're doing this."

Jasper feigned innocence. "Really? So, why am I doing this?"

"I meant it when I said that you're going to have fun," Alice said with a chuckle, "but this is about Valentine's Day too, and you can't pretend it's not."

Jasper shrugged. "I just think I'll enjoy buying you a gift with money I made myself for a change, that's all," he said simply. "Right now, whenever I buy you anything, it's with money Carlisle or Esme have given me. In two weeks, I'm going to have my first paycheck, and then…"

"Blue," Alice said suddenly.

"Blue what?" Jasper said with a smile.

"If you're really going to use some of your paycheck to get me a present, get me the blue bag," Alice said, scanning the future. "I have a dress it will match perfectly."

"So, are you going to tell me what I'm getting from you for Valentine's Day?" Jasper asked playfully, though he already knew she wouldn't.

Alice grinned. "Since I almost never get to be surprised, it's my job to surprise you, and your job to be surprised."

Jasper smiled and took her hand as she drove. Doing anything for Alice would always be his favorite job.


	166. Time

Hi again! Today's second chapter is about Alice getting things ready for Edward and Bella's wedding, and how Esme's help, or at least her calming presence, was doubtless instrumental in that. (This chapter begins at the end of "Eclipse," right after Bella agrees to let Alice plan the wedding; according to the internet, the day of the wedding is August 13th). I really can't thank you guys enough for all your reviews, but thank you once again anyway! Hope you have a great week and look for one more chapter after this one! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't believe there are only 116 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1!

_2006_: Time

Alice's POV

"Esme!" Alice shouted, racing through the house until she and Esme met on the staircase. With Alice on a higher step than Esme, for once, they were the same height.

"Alice, what is it?" Esme said, her expression somewhere between amused and alarmed.

"Bella said yes, so now we have to start getting everything ready," Alice said in a rush. "I've got the caterers booked already, but now we need to start choosing flowers, picking colors for the decorations, and Bella's dress is ready, but now I need to check on mine, and—"

"Alice," Esme said firmly, grabbing her shoulders. "Slow down. I know you don't need to, but just take a second and breathe. Now, what do we need to do first?"

"Invitations," Alice said immediately. "I have the guest list in my head, I just need to look up a few addresses. Oh, but I need to get them printed! I didn't know the date before—"

"Order them, and I'll go pick them up later," Esme said, and Alice nodded vigorously, seeing the scene play out in her head.

"Great, thank you! While you're gone, I can talk to the caterers and give them a better estimate of how many guests we're going to have. I'm starting to see who'll be able to make it if we get the invitations out by the end of this week…"

"I'll be at my desk, but call my cell phone the second you need me to do something," Esme said, patting Alice on the shoulder as she passed. Alice nodded vaguely, then wandered down the stairs in a daze; she'd seen the possibility of Bella letting her plan the wedding, but until it became a reality, Alice hadn't dared to hope too much. Now that it was really going to happen, Alice was so thrilled that she could barely speak.

Emmett and Jasper were in the living room, watching TV. Alice knew that they were waiting for Rosalie to get back from an impromptu shopping trip, and then they were all going hunting, Alice too.

"Well?" Jasper said expectantly, taking in her mood.

"She said yes!" Alice sang. "And now there's so much to do, and not much time to do it in, but I'm going to just stand here for a second and savor the happiness of the moment, okay?"

"Fine by me," Jasper said, taking her hand and smiling. He was just happy that she was happy, and Alice was so giddy that she didn't even mind that aside from Esme, no one else was going to help much with the wedding preparations. Of course, it was better that way—Esme knew the way Alice liked things, and if Emmett or Jasper or any of the others were left to put up decorations or take care of the flowers or even put invitations in envelopes, Alice knew that she wouldn't be satisfied with their work. Having just Esme and herself doing the bulk of the work would save Alice the time it would take to redo anything that anyone else did. Speaking of which…

"Just so you know, you two aren't allowed to do anything for this wedding but put on your tuxes, comb your hair, and sit there at the ceremony looking good," Alice said, squeezing Jasper's hand. "Seriously, don't touch anything the day of the wedding."

"What, I don't get to perform the service now?" Emmett demanded. "Why not?"

"Because," Alice said patiently, "if you do it, Bella won't be able to keep a straight face. I won't have her giggling through her marriage vows. And Jazz, if you could keep everyone calm on the big day, that would be great, but please don't let Emmett talk you into playing football anywhere near the cake, all right?"

"Why would I?" Jasper wondered.

"It's a remote possibility," Alice admitted. "But I've seen it, so apparently it's possible. I want everything to be perfect for this wedding, so just behave yourselves, all right?"

"Got it," Emmett said, waving his hand dismissively. "Don't mess up the cake, and I guess murder is strongly discouraged on the day of the wedding, right?"

"Exactly," Alice said cheerfully, "though I _will_ murder you if you cause any trouble, Emmett. I mean it. Ask Edward if you don't believe me—he'll tell you that my revenge will be swift and terrible if you mess up _anything_."

"Will there be a lot of human guests?" Jasper asked, sounding both curious and uneasy.

"Only a few," Alice promised. "Bella's parents, some kids from school, the minister, and…hmm, some werewolves might be coming. We'll see though."

"Seriously?" Emmett said, but after giving Jasper a quick kiss, Alice quickly walked away, shaking her head. She hated the blankness that entered her head whenever werewolves appeared in the future. After calling and ordering the invitations, talking to the caterers, and ordering most of what she'd need to decorate the house and yard online, Alice went downstairs to meet Carlisle, who was just getting home from work.

"Hi!" Alice said. "You need to take a day off from work on August thirteenth."

"All right," Carlisle said, smiling slowly. "Is that—"

"The day of the wedding, yes," Alice said, beaming. "Bella told me yes earlier today, and I've been working ever since." _And short of the hospital burning down, you aren't allowed to miss this wedding, because Edward's going to ask you to be his best man_, Alice thought, but she didn't say so out loud—why not let Edward be the one to surprise Carlisle?

"I'll be there," Carlisle promised. "Just try not to go too overboard, all right Alice?"

"I'll try," Alice said with a grin. "Or at least, I'll _try_ to try." She heard Carlisle chuckle as she raced off to tell Esme when and where she could pick up the wedding invitations. Then Alice sat down and scanned her visions to see what decorations would look best where, and whether or not the weather would cooperate if she tried to have the reception outside…

After a few minutes of consideration, Alice blinked and stood up. August thirteenth suddenly seemed terribly close, but Alice was more excited than apprehensive about having to do everything on such short notice. In all the years she'd been a vampire, how many times had she actually had to rush? Alice savored the novelty of the moment, because as an immortal, it was very strange to ever feel the sensation of having too little time.


	167. Sons

Hi again! Today's last chapter is a reader request: someone (or maybe it was more than one person) wanted to read a chapter about Esme joining the PTA, so here it is! Thanks once again for all your reviews (reading them is one of my favorite parts of every week :)), and I'll see you again next Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I've finally started watching "Nurse Jackie." It's so good! I love that Peter Facinelli is the perfect doctor as Carlisle, and as Coop, he's just…I mean, he's a jerk, but he's so pretty I can't help but love him anyway! :)

_1994_: Sons

Esme's POV

The gymnasium was brightly lit when Esme stepped inside and saw a group of parents standing around the rows of folding chairs that had been set up in the center of the gym. It was a relatively small school, and there weren't so many PTA members that it made sense for people to sit in the bleachers, so there were tables and chairs set up on the basketball court, and Esme watched as the other parents congregated around a table crowded with coffee pots and trays of cookies.

Esme tried not to sigh as she took a seat in the back row of chairs. She often thought that it would make life much easier if vampires were able to digest food. It would be so much easier to pass for human if she could have a cup of coffee and a cookie at meetings like this, chat with people about the snacks, and then not have to worry about having to regurgitate everything she ate when she got home. But of course there was no help for it; perhaps after the meeting was over, she'd pretend to nibble at a cookie, just for the sake of appearances.

"Hello everyone!" the PTA president said brightly, speaking into the microphone mounted on the podium she was standing behind. "Can I have everyone take their seats? We're about to get started."

In many ways, the meeting resembled every other PTA meeting that Esme had ever attended. Yes, this was the first PTA gathering she'd attended at this particular school, but the mix of concerned parents and bored ones, the patient expressions of teachers made to spend time in school after hours, the enthusiastic PTA officers, even the smell of mediocre coffee was remarkably similar to everything Esme remembered about the last PTA group she'd joined, and the one before that. It was, on the whole, all rather dull and predictable.

Esme didn't really like to attend things like this. It was one thing to take the occasional pottery class or go to a concert, seeing as how things like that involved less socialization; during the course of the PTA meeting, she noticed several parents turn and glance back at her in what they obviously thought was an inconspicuous manner, and Esme tried not to sigh when she considered the fact that at least some of these parents were going to try and talk to her later. The Cullens were new in town, a curiosity, and Esme knew that she was going to have to be pleasant without encouraging any overtures of friendship. Striking that balance between standoffishness and politeness always bothered Esme, because she would have preferred to be able to make a friend now and then. If only it were safe to get close to humans…

"Do you mind?" Carlisle had asked gently earlier that evening. They'd been in their bedroom, each of them getting ready to drive into town. "If I didn't have to work tonight, I'd go, but I'm filling in for Dr. O'Hara. I know you don't really like the PTA—"

"I like the _idea_ of the PTA," Esme had said with a sigh. "But in practice, it never seems to help much. Every PTA group I've ever belonged to has been very committed to organizing fundraisers for the school, chatting and gossiping before and after meetings…and that's it. I'm happy to raise money to help the school, but I always feel so silly, trying to stand on the edge of the social side of the group and pretend I care about what people are talking about when I can never really get to know them. It's just…depressing, knowing that I'm going to be going to meetings like this forever maybe, and I won't be able to make friends like the other parents can. No matter how many groups I join, I'll never get to really belong the way humans do. Neither of us will. We can have co-workers and acquaintances, but no human friends. Ever."

Carlisle hadn't said anything then, but he'd kissed her very slowly, and then what had clearly been intended as a comforting, even apologetic kiss changed into something else when Esme shut their bedroom door and pulled Carlisle to their bed. After all, she had a few minutes before she needed to leave…

"Get off," Esme had said a while later, smiling at him in the darkness. "I'm going to be late for my meeting, and you're going to be late for work."

"You're a saint," Carlisle had declared, returning her smile. "You do know that, don't you?"

_Maybe I am,_ Esme thought as the PTA meeting entered its second hour. It was nearly ten o'clock by the time the meeting finally ended, and Esme wondered how humans who had to get up and go to work tomorrow managed to endure things like this. She knew she would have felt exhausted if that had been possible; as it was, she'd been so bored for the last hour that she'd been doodling in the notebook she'd brought with her to take notes. She quickly closed the book when she realized that her last doodle was one of Carlisle with his shirt off. Esme nearly laughed aloud at herself, but managed to cover the sound by pretending to cough. She had a number of similar drawings of Carlisle at home, but she certainly didn't need any curious humans looking over her shoulder and seeing one.

Esme stood, picked up her purse and notebook and prepared to leave, but then she felt that someone was watching her.

"Excuse me," a cheerful voice behind her said, and Esme turned, a smile already in place to greet whoever had found the nerve to approach her first.

"I'm sorry, but are you…Mrs. Cullen?"

"Yes," Esme said, continuing to smile at a middle-aged woman with dark wavy hair. "But you can just call me Esme."

A woman with blond hair streaked with silver stood beside the other woman now, trying and failing to look like she wasn't listening to the conversation.

"I'm Patty Martin," the first woman said, offering Esme her hand, and Esme shook it, glad that the fall evening was chilly enough to warrant the gloves she'd worn. "Your sons Edward and Emmett have a class with my daughter Sarah, and my son Devon can't stop talking about your daughter, Rosalie."

"Well, I'm glad to hear the kids are making friends," Esme said, pretending to be oblivious when Patty's face fell slightly. Esme knew from experience that her children didn't make friends; at a small school like this, they would be little more than a subject of gossip for the other kids, who it wasn't even safe for them to get to know. In a small town like this, if something went wrong and a student disappeared, it would be difficult to conceal the death or deflect suspicion if the Cullens or Hales could be linked to the child in any way.

"Are they all adopted?" the blond woman said bluntly, then flushed when she realized that the answer was obvious, and that she hadn't introduced herself yet. "Sorry, I'm Amy Harris. My son told me that the Hales and the Cullens are all yours and Dr. Cullen's kids. I just—well, I didn't think you'd be so young."

"Yes, the Hales are actually cousins of mine, and the Cullens are my husband's older brother's children," Esme said cheerfully. She was used to questions like these—all that really varied from person to person was the level of tact someone displayed while asking questions about how a couple who looked to be in their twenties could have five children in high school. "We've taken them in over the past few years, after each of their parents died. Since my husband Carlisle finished his medical degree, we're finally able to have a house big enough for all of them."

"My sister's a nurse at the hospital," another woman said, leaning in to join the little group. "She has nothing but nice things to say about your husband, Mrs. Cullen."

"Thank you," Esme said warmly, but she always hated lying to people like this woman, who seemed to be genuinely kind, most of all. And if she said anything other than 'thank you,' a lie would almost surely slip out, so Esme said nothing else.

"Welcome to Brighton," the woman said, smiling and nodding at the other two women before walking away.

"That's Mrs. Pike, the guidance counselor," Amy said. "Her son's in Iraq, poor woman. Three years after Desert Storm and they're still cleaning things up over there."

"That must be hard, having him so far away," Esme said, relieved as she always was that none of her children could join the military.

"Well, he was a bit of a troublemaker when he was in high school, but I guess the Marines have straightened him out," Amy said with a shrug. "She's got another boy in Dan's class."

"Honestly, one son is almost more than I can handle some days," Patty said with a sigh. "How on earth do you handle three, Esme?"

Esme shrugged. "Well, they're all very well behaved kids. I'm always impressed by how mature they are. Their parents did such a wonderful job with them that it sometimes seems like Carlisle and I don't have much to do."

"Are they driving yet?" Amy asked. "Trust me, when they start driving, teenagers become the most terrifying things you could possibly imagine. My son Dan has totaled two cars since he got his license, and he's only a junior!"

"Sarah has to work part-time to pay for car insurance, and once Devon starts driving, he's going to have to do the same thing," Patty said grimly. "He's working on fixing up his uncle's old car right now—if he can get his grades up, we might help him buy a decent car, but as it is now, if he can't at least pass geometry this semester…"

Esme sighed quietly, but her smile was a little more sincere now than it had been before. After all, just being an acquaintance, if not quite a friend, could be fun. Clearly, Amy and Patty weren't feeling envious of Esme's apparent youth or questioning her qualifications as a parent, at least not at the moment; right now, they were both just happy to have an audience while they talked about their children. Standing around with two almost friends while they compared notes on their teenage sons wasn't exactly Esme's idea of the ideal social life, but it was better than nothing.


	168. Denial

Hi everyone! Sorry I'm updating a day late, but I was house sitting again this past weekend, and I started my new job today, so I've been a bit busy. :) This week, I only have two new chapters ready for you, but I'm hoping to have three finished for next week. In this first chapter, Carlisle reflects on his first meeting with Esme a year after he treated her in Columbus. (This chapter also includes a reader request for a glimpse into Carlisle's thoughts after the Titanic sunk). Thanks as always for your reviews, and tonight, look for one more chapter after this one! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 108 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! :)

_1912_: Denial

Carlisle's POV

After several minutes of dawdling, Carlisle had to concede that he'd finished packing. He'd left a few of his larger possessions behind when he'd first left Columbus the previous year, but now he was back to finish his arrangements for leaving the city permanently. He'd relocated countless times over the past few decades, but this time was different. This time, he was leaving Columbus for good, all because of a human girl he hadn't seen in nearly a year.

When he'd left town a few months before, just a few hours after treating the girl named Esme, whose memory had been haunting him ever since, he'd told the hospital that he had a family emergency to deal with out west. A pregnant sister, he'd said, whose husband had died, and who he wished to take care of until her child was born. No one had questioned his sudden departure; Carlisle knew that most of his coworkers simply assumed that he'd found a better job for better pay in New York or Chicago, and the story of his "sister" was just a fabrication to soothe the irritated sensibilities of the hospital administrators, who'd wanted to keep the young and promising Dr. Cullen, but who couldn't afford to pay him more.

After leaving work that fateful day, Carlisle had then gone home and packed everything he could carry before leaving town, certain that he couldn't be trusted to stay anywhere near the girl whose broken leg he'd set that day. For the past few months, he'd been living in California, working as a country doctor between two small towns that could barely be called towns, but where the population of farmers and eccentric former gold miners was so glad to have a doctor in their midst that they had accepted the sudden appearance of a strange physician from the east with more gratitude than suspicion. Carlisle would return to the practice he'd set up there, just as soon as he could arrange for the few pieces of furniture and paintings he'd left in Columbus to be moved. Then, he might never come back to Columbus. Just to be safe, he might even avoid the state of Ohio as a whole for the next few decades.

_Esme Anne Platt_. That had been the name the girl had written in messy script when she'd been admitted to the hospital, and even now, almost a year later, Carlisle found himself thinking of her name, her face, the sound of her voice, and virtually every other detail about her on an almost daily basis. The fact that he remembered everything wasn't strange—Carlisle remembered every patient he'd ever treated with perfect clarity—but the fact that he took pleasure in remembering Esme, that thinking of her had become a beloved leisure activity in recent months was troubling.

Carlisle was determined to quit indulging in his newfound hobby though; that, more than the few objects he'd left behind in the house he'd rented, was the real reason he'd come back to Columbus. He wanted to erase all proof that he had ever been here. Then, perhaps he could finally manage to stop thinking of a girl he had no business remembering fondly.

The fact that she was human was bad enough; sitting in his former home and contemplating the crates he'd packed with art, books, and some old chairs he'd grown fond of, Carlisle regarded himself with a mixture of horror and amazement when he considered how young Esme had been, and how young she still was. _Why did she have to be so young?_ he asked himself now, as he had many times before. Of course, becoming fixated on a grown woman wouldn't be any better really, but somehow, Carlisle thought that it would have seemed less reprehensible an attraction if Esme had only been an adult.

Carlisle refused to believe that he was in love with the girl. Something like that would be too painful for him and too dangerous for her if he couldn't learn to smother this inexplicable feeling. Perhaps mistakenly, Carlisle had always thought that if he ever fell in love with anyone, it would make sense somehow—that the person he loved would be a match for him in terms of age and temperament…and that she would be a vampire, of course. Carlisle had never considered the possibility of falling in love with a human; to do so seemed such a cruel twist of fate for both parties involved.

Of course he had friends—other vampires who were women—and Carlisle had sometimes hoped to fall in love with someone of his acquaintance, thinking that he could win her (whoever she might be) over to his own thinking about living without human blood. But centuries had passed, and it hadn't happened. He'd never felt anything more than friendship for the vampire women he knew, and he'd never felt anything more than a desire to cure the ailments of the many human women he'd met over his years as a doctor. But Esme…quite by accident, she'd inspired a new sort of feeling in him, a feeling that Carlisle was determined not to name or try to understand, because if he could stop himself from admitting how he really felt, then perhaps he could also keep himself from ever acting on that feeling.

It was such a strange feeling anyway, something he'd never felt before, that Carlisle could tell himself that it wasn't love, it couldn't be. It was as if she'd flipped a switch inside him, and now Carlisle couldn't get her out of his head, but that wasn't proof that he loved her. It seemed more likely that he simply loved all the promise and hope of youthful mortality that she represented, that all her cheerfulness and potential was in such stark contrast to his own lonely existence that it was only natural that he'd be charmed by such a creature. Or, perhaps he'd simply gone mad—he'd never heard of vampires taking leave of their senses, but perhaps all his years alone had finally made something in him snap, and that was why he was so hopelessly fixated on a human girl who might only barely remember him now, months after their brief encounter.

_Yes, madness seems like the best explanation, unfortunately,_ Carlisle told himself, looking out at the sunny afternoon and half hoping and half fearing that by some phenomenal coincidence, Esme would come walking down the road as he stood and watched the remainder of the day pass by. No matter what happened now, either in the world at large or in his own life, Carlisle found himself connecting everything with Esme. When the great ship Titanic had sunk back in April, he'd read, along with the rest of the country, in breathless horror the accounts of the wreck and the terrible loss of life that had followed. Carlisle had wished then that he could have helped, that he could have somehow known of the disaster in advance; if he could have been on the ship himself, and prepared for the disaster, he wondered how many lives he might have saved, lives that had instead been lost so needlessly.

But there had been an edge of selfishness to his thoughts then too. After all, it had seemed unlikely that a farm girl from Ohio would, under any circumstances, have been aboard the Titanic when it sunk. Though it troubled Carlisle to admit it, he realized that he took comfort in the fact that though many nameless, unknown humans had been lost in that tragedy, the human he was inexplicably fixated on was safe.

Of course, the thought of Esme being safe from large, well-publicized disasters offered Carlisle little solace when he considered how many small accidents happened each day. Humans died in so many ways, from the smallest, most seemingly inconsequential things. The fact that he'd met her because she'd broken her leg was hardly reassuring: had her accident taught Esme to be more cautious in the future, or was she naturally a somewhat reckless person? Carlisle thought that unlikely, but it wasn't as though she would have to go looking for trouble for trouble to find her...

_Just thinking hypothetically_, Carlisle thought, watching the sun sink toward the horizon—he would have to wait until dark to leave now—_I couldn't possibly love someone who I barely know. To love someone, I would have to really get to know them, to speak to them for more than just a few hours and about more than mostly trivial subjects. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with worrying about the health of a former patient, is there? I hope her leg healed all right…_

Carlisle abruptly sighed and wished that the sun would hurry up and set; then he could run into town and get a wagon to carry his things to the train station. Then he could leave, and hopefully leave these foolish, impossible thoughts behind him when he went back to California. Of course he knew that his fixation was about more than mere concern for Esme's wellbeing. But to admit the truth would be to endanger her life, and all Carlisle wanted was for her to be happy, to have the sort of life that a sweet girl like her deserved.

Yes, he was in denial when it came to how he really felt about Esme Platt. But if he could keep denying the truth, then he could stay away, he could keep her safe from the danger that he posed at least. Still, Carlisle knew that he would always wonder what had become of her, what course her life had taken, and what he might say if he ever saw her again, that pretty human girl he'd met in 1911…


	169. Escort

Hi again! Today's second chapter isn't exactly 100% accurate, in the sense that it's implied in "The Official Illustrated Guide" that the Cullens didn't meet the Denalis until at least the middle of the 20th century…but I've always had fun imagining that Carlisle met Tanya and her sisters before that, so here's how I imagine they might have first met and become friends. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't believe that "Breaking Dawn" Part 1 is just a little over a hundred days away!

_1893_: Escort

Kate's POV

While waiting for a train a few weeks before in New York, Tanya, Irina, and Kate had all noticed the scent of another vampire in the station. Usually, they avoided others of their kind—their eye color generally only inspired confusion, mistrust, and derision once it was known that they refused to feed on humans—but Tanya had convinced the others that it might be fun to make a new acquaintance.

"After all," she'd said, "this is the first immortal we've encountered since coming here for our little trip. Maybe they're a bit more open minded about dietary differences here."

"There!" Kate had said, picking the source of the vampire scent out of the crowd. "The man sitting on the bench, the one with the newspaper in front of his face."

Kate and the others had slowly made their way over to the strange vampire, whose posture had tensed slightly as they approached, and Kate couldn't blame him—it must be unnerving to be a lone vampire suddenly approached by a coven of three.

"Excuse me," Tanya had said, her voice cheerful and friendly, and the vampire had lowered his newspaper. Then all four of them had jumped. The man, like Kate and her sisters, had yellow eyes.

All of them were stunned into silence for several seconds before Tanya spoke.

"You…you only hunt animals, not humans?" she demanded.

The man stared, his expression incredulous. "Yes. You do the same?"

"Yes, and I think I speak for both my sisters when I say that we're delighted to finally find someone like us! I'm Tanya," Tanya said immediately, grinning at the man as he stood up and tipped his hat. He was grinning too. "This is Irina, and this is Kate."

"Carlisle Cullen," the man said, shaking hands with all of them. "I'm very pleased to meet you too."

So that was how they'd met Carlisle Cullen. Kate, Tanya and Irina had come to America to sightsee, and to see the great fair in Chicago that everyone in Europe, even immortals, had been talking about that summer. Carlisle told them during that first meeting in New York that he'd been to the fair, and that though he'd come to New York to start a new job, he'd be happy to accompany the sisters there as soon as he could get some time off.

It had amazed Kate and the others that Carlisle had a job that required him to work so closely with humans—many immortals worked, either for fun, profit, or to help them identify future meals, but Kate had never heard of a vampire working as a doctor who actually helped people. (She _had_ heard of vampires who posed as doctors to enter hospitals and obtain an easy meal, but Carlisle was clearly not that sort of man). Though they'd encouraged Carlisle to come traveling with them, Carlisle had said, with some regret, that he'd promised to start work the next day, so they'd toured most of America by train without of him, after securing his promise that he would meet them in Chicago on a predetermined date.

That had been a few weeks before, and now, Carlisle was standing by the main entrance to the great Columbian Exposition in Jackson Park, waiting to show Kate, Tanya and Irina the famous World's Fair.

"After all," Irina had insisted with a broad smile when they'd parted in New York, "three lovely ladies such as us really shouldn't go to such a place unescorted."

"Good morning," Carlisle said, tipping his hat to them and paying their admission fees, which made all three giggle like girls much younger than they were. (Kate wondered briefly how old Carlisle was, and decided against immediately mentioning the fact that she and her sisters were close to nine hundred years old—it probably wouldn't scare him off, but it was easier to flirt with him when age wasn't a known element for either party.) After surveying the impressive buildings and exhibits that crowded the midway, the sisters decided that they wanted to ride the great metal wheel a human called Ferris had constructed just for the fair. It was an overcast day, but the grounds of the fair were still crowded with visitors, and a vain part of Kate was pleased that she and her sisters (along with Carlisle, who made a very handsome escort) were being noticed and admired by the humans around them.

"Let's take turns," Irina said. "I mean, if you don't mind, Carlisle, I think each of us might like to ride the wheel with you alone. None of us has a beau at the moment, so it might be fun to at least pretend."

"Agreed," Tanya said.

"Sure," Kate said, winking at Carlisle.

"I don't mind," Carlisle said, clearly bemused. Kate guessed that he wasn't used to being flirted with, or even if he was, he didn't flirt back with the sort of studied grace of most (usually overconfident) vampire men, which was oddly endearing.

"So, who gets to go first?" Kate asked.

Irina smiled. "Well, since it was my idea, how about I go first, and after that, let's have it be alphabetical." The others had agreed (Tanya somewhat reluctantly), so Tanya and Kate had wandered and looked at some exhibits while Irina and Carlisle rode the wheel. Next, it was Kate's turn, and she eagerly waited in line with her pretend beau.

"Do you really not mind riding this thing again?" Kate asked as he bought their tickets.

"Not at all," Carlisle said, his sincerity obvious. "It's an amazing view, really. I'm impressed that humans have the nerve to ride it, though. I've read about its construction, and it's supposed to be quite safe, but if it were to break…well, we'd be all right, but no human would."

Kate imagined the wheel collapsing and shook her head. She would easily survive of course, but the deaths of dozens, perhaps hundreds of humans, would really put a damper on the day. She took Carlisle's arm as they took their seats, and then both of them listened to the gears of the thing working just before it started.

"I've noticed you staring at us," Kate said suddenly, just as the great wheel began to move. "Each of us, one by one. You're hoping to fall in love with one of us, aren't you?"

Carlisle looked acutely embarrassed, but after a moment of silence, he sighed. "Well…yes, I did sort of...hope. I _was _hoping, at least."

"You aren't anymore?" Kate wondered.

"I don't think so," Carlisle said with a frown. "I originally came to America to find others like me. I hoped that maybe I could find someone to share a life with and, if we could, build a coven together. But…how can I put it? You and your sisters only feel like friends to me, Kate. None of you feel like someone I could fall in love with."

"Maybe you're just not trying hard enough," Kate suggested cheerfully. "I could kiss you, if you think that might help. I don't mind."

"No, thank you," Carlisle quickly.

Kate laughed. "I'm only teasing. You're right, you know. I mean, you only feel like a friend to me too, Carlisle. And maybe I'm old-fashioned, but I think that if I ever really fall in love with someone, I won't have to try to make it happen. I think that most of our kind are that way. Supposedly, when you see your mate, you just know they're the one for you. It's stronger than anything you've ever felt before, and it doesn't fade the way the infatuations my sisters and I have sometimes do."

"Infatuations?" Carlisle repeated. "With other immortals?"

"No, usually with humans," Kate said easily, grinning at Carlisle's look of amazement. "It took us a long time to learn not to kill our gentlemen friends," she explained, "but we've grown quite good at it in recent decades. Human men tend to be more appreciative of our charms, and when a fling ends, we don't have to worry about them trying to chase after us, or about running into them somewhere a century from now."

"…ah," Carlisle said, still looking amazed.

"Shocked at our loose morals?" Kate said, leering at him.

Carlisle laughed. "More at the fact that you can get so…close to humans. It took ages before I felt safe even touching a human whose injury or illness I was trying to treat. Getting closer than that must take amazing control."

Kate considered asking Carlisle if he'd ever gotten really "close" to anyone before, but she decided not to tease him about that—he was clearly a rather shy person, or perhaps old-fashioned, as she'd said about herself, was a better way of putting it. Most vampires without mates didn't consider monogamy to be very important, but Carlisle was clearly the sort of man who didn't want to be with a woman unless he really loved her. Kate admired that in him, though she herself wasn't quite such a romantic—in her experience, physical attraction and love didn't always go together.

Kate and Carlisle sat and watched the ground slip away as the great wheel slowly turned. It was really an amazing sight—Kate was always impressed that human ingenuity could create huge things like this without the strength or mental capacity of a vampire to assist them in their labors. The wheel they were riding, and the fair below, were just the sort of things that always made Kate feel excited about the future. If humans could create things like this, who knew what they would think of next?

"It bothers you that Irina seems to like you more than you like her, doesn't it?" Kate said quietly as the wheel began to descend.

Carlisle nodded. "I'm enjoying spending time with you and your sisters, Kate. But I like living the way I do, working to help humans. You three like to travel a lot more than I tend to, and…yes, I would worry about leading Irina on, if I were to join your family. And given that the three of you have clearly been a family for so long…well, I'm afraid that I'd only be the odd man out, really."

"Irina doesn't really like you though," Kate said bluntly. "I mean, she's more interested in the idea of you—a vampire who abstains from human blood like we do, as opposed to a breakable human male or the usual bloodthirsty male vampires who laugh at our eating habits—than you personally."

Carlisle looked thoughtful for a moment. "Should I be flattered by that remark, or insulted?"

"Can't you be both?" Kate asked, and they both laughed.

"You know, you could come back to Russia with us, if you'd like," she said after a while. "Irina might be a bit slow on the uptake, but eventually, she'd learn that you only want to be friends."

Carlisle frowned. "I don't—"

"Just think it over," Kate said easily. "Who knows? Maybe we'll settle in America someday. We prefer Russia, but that's only because we've lived there for so long. Canada's supposed to be rather similar though, in terms of climate and some of the hunting—maybe we'll go home that way, through the Arctic, and have a look."

Carlisle shook his head. "I might go back to Europe again, someday, but I came here to start a new life, and I have that life now. That is, I'm happy in my work, and meeting you and your sisters only proves that I was right to come here. If I keep looking, I hope I might find more immortals who share our dietary quirk."

Kate grinned. "I hope you do, and I hope you find someone to fall in love with soon, Carlisle. If only so Irina will leave you alone and we can all just be friends."

Carlisle smiled. "Thank you, Kate. I hope you find someone too."

Kate sighed. "As old as I am, I wonder if that will ever happen. For right now, it's just nice to have a pretend beau for the day."

They talked easily of other things after that, until the wheel stopped moving and it was time to get off so Tanya could have her turn.

"So," Irina said while Tanya and Carlisle joined a crowd of humans also buying wheel tickets. She sounded both curious and slightly suspicious. "Did you two have fun?"

Kate grinned. "Even though he's only a pretend beau, it's fun to have an escort."


	170. Truth

Hi everyone! Sorry, but I only have one chapter ready for tonight: I'm house sitting again (and for some reason I never seem to get as much done when I'm here as I do at home), but I'm hoping to have two more chapters ready later this week. (We'll see though…)

Today's chapter is rather short: it's just a brief look into what Jacob might have thought when, turning into a wolf for the first time, he realized that the Cullens (who I imagine he'd at least seen at a distance before, though I actually have Jacob briefly meet Carlisle and Esme in an earlier chapter :)) were really vampires, and that Billy's stories weren't just superstitions after all. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again in a day or so (hopefully)! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 102 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! :)

_2006_: Truth

Jacob's POV

After I dropped Bella off at her house after the movie, I drove home, feeling pretty dang good about life in general. Sure, the guy from Bella's class puking had sort of killed whatever mood had prevailed before he'd gotten sick on what had admittedly been a pretty awkward date, but it was still nice to know that Bella wanted me around—that if Edward Cullen hadn't broken her heart so completely, she might even like to go out on a real date with me. The very fact that Bella cared about me, that she wanted me to stay with her, made me really happy. It gave me hope that her heart wouldn't stay broken forever, and someday, if she could just forget about that stupid Cullen guy, we could be more than just friends…

I was thinking of Bella in a more than just friendly way when I parked my car in front of the house and went inside. My dad was in front of the TV, and I must have had a kind of stupid, guy-who's-just-hung-out-with-the-girl-he-likes look on my face, because when Billy saw me, he raised his eyebrows.

"Whoa, Jake," he said. "You look a little weird."

And then I felt something strange inside me snap. At first, I thought that I was really sick, like Bella had worried I was at the movie theater, and that I was going to throw up…but then my whole body seemed to explode, and all at once, my teeth were long, and sharp, and I was close to Billy, too close, and though he managed to move his chair back just in time, I was still horrified to find my jaws snapping down right where his face had been just a second ago.

As my body appeared to come apart with a terrible ripping sound, I was terrified, but there was also a weird part of my brain that was still calm, that was remembering Billy's stories about the Quileutes being descended from the wolf, and how our ancestors could change into wolves. I felt that my ears and nose had gotten longer, and though it wasn't painful exactly, the sensation of having suddenly changed into a completely different species was so foreign to me that I was practically frozen with fear. I stared down at myself, and saw with horror that my limbs had twisted into two pairs of legs, that there were now paws where my hands and feet had been, and that I'd grown fur, _everywhere_. As I stared down at the claws that had been finger nails just a few seconds before, I sort of retreated into the calm part of my brain, remembering something.

There were the werewolf stories…and the vampire stories. The silly stories that I had always laughed at, because this was the 21st century, and there were no such things as werewolves or vampires. And contrary to my dad's ridiculous suspicions, the Cullens definitely weren't vampires…definitely, the Cullens were just…

I remembered seeing Edward Cullen's mom (well, adopted mom anyway) putting gas in her car or one of her kids' cars a few months ago. I'd stopped at the same gas station to fill up the tank in Billy's crappy little car, and I remembered noticing Mrs. Cullen only because it had been weeks since I'd last seen Bella. I wasn't really so desperate to hear about her that I was going to ask Bella's boyfriend's mom how she was, but I'll be honest, I considered it for a split second. Mrs. Cullen seemed like the kind of person who wouldn't have laughed if I'd asked, or if she'd thought my question was strange ('strange' to the tune of 'why are you sort of stalking my son's girlfriend?'), she wouldn't have shown it.

It was last summer, back when Bella was still dating Edward Cullen, and I remembered thinking, as I watched Mrs. Cullen swipe her credit card (I had just finished counting all the one dollar bills in my wallet and was wishing that I could get a credit card), that my dad was sort of a weird guy. I mean, standing there at the gas station, Mrs. Cullen just looked so normal. Really pretty, but mom-pretty, like someone you could talk about your problems with when you were looking for advice. Then again, maybe I only thought that because I had trouble remembering my mom's face sometimes, and when I saw moms like Mrs. Cullen, I liked to think that my mom had been like that: a pretty, comforting person who people took one look at and immediately liked.

As I'd watched her drive away, I remembered thinking how stupid my dad's old stories were. Mrs. Cullen was just about the last person on earth who could possibly be a vampire, though what sane person went around accusing _anyone_ of being a vampire? I remembered wondering if my dad had been so superstitious when I'd been younger, before my mom had died. Maybe he was getting worse about that stuff as he was getting older. Or maybe he was just—

_Crazy_, I thought frantically, _this is crazy, I'm crazy, I _must_ be._

But at the same time, I knew with awful certainty that I wasn't crazy, that I was a wolf, and as I turned and ran out the still open front door, my four legs moving me faster than was humanly possible, I finally realized that Billy's stories weren't just stories after all. They were all true, or else I wouldn't have almost just mauled my own father to death. Billy was right.

_We _can_ change our shapes into that of the wolf_, I thought with sudden, horrible certainty_. And if the wolf stories are true, then the ones about the cold ones must be too. _

That thought made me feel sick, though my close call with Billy had already left me a little queasy. And then there was Bella. Bella could have been killed by those things! The Cullens, who went around pretending to be human when they had no right to, when they were really monsters who could snap and kill someone for their blood at any time. Even Mrs. Cullen, who I'd been so sure was _nice,_ was a monster too…and the truth of that thought made me run even faster through the woods, where I could suddenly hear wolves howling, and now the thoughts of other people were crowding into the edges of my mind…


	171. Necessary

Hi everyone! I'm finally back home, and I finally managed to get the two chapters I wanted to post this week finished, so here they are! Today's first chapter deals with how I imagine Bella would have eventually told Carlisle how it really felt when Edward turned her into a vampire. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again with another chapter after this one! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 98 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! SO EXCITED! :)

_2006_: Necessary

Bella's POV

I'm not really sure why I waited as long as I did, but then again, a part of me didn't want to tell Carlisle anything about what it had been like when Edward had changed me. In the end, I only told Carlisle after I'd told Edward, and I only did that because my alternating vagueness and silence whenever the subject of my transformation came up finally made him suspicious. When, one night a few weeks before our first anniversary, I finally admitted what it had really been like—how I'd felt all the pain I'd been warned about, but had been unable to move or cry out—he'd been sad, but not as upset as I'd feared.

"I wondered," he said quietly. "It just seemed too good to be true that it wouldn't hurt at all, or that you simply didn't remember the pain."

"I didn't want to tell you," I explained. "I knew you'd just be unhappy that it had been as bad for me as it was for you."

"Worse, in a way, because you couldn't even move," Edward said grimly, and I kissed him then, trying to show him, as opposed to offering an unnecessary explanation for how it had been worth it to me, that having him and Nessie and all of the Cullens as my family now was worth what I'd suffered to get here now.

"Now that I've told you, you aren't allowed to feel depressed about it," I said, trying and probably failing to sound stern—kissing him made it unbelievably difficult to concentrate on anything else.

"If I hadn't had months to see how happy you are with this life, then I might be inclined to mope a little," Edward said, smiling crookedly. "But as it is now, I'm feeling anything but depressed. "

We were rather distracted after that, so it wasn't until the next day that I went looking for Carlisle, to tell him too. Somehow, it seemed important that before my first year as a Cullen was over, I should tell the truth about how it had felt when I'd been changed. I didn't plan to tell everyone, though I was sure Alice had seen my confession by now and would probably tell Jasper. And Carlisle would doubtless tell Esme, but I didn't plan to let anyone else in on the secret. Rosalie and Emmett would be happier not knowing, Jacob too, and Nessie…well, maybe I would tell her the truth about it when she was older, though knowing her, she already suspected.

I knocked on the door of Carlisle's study before going in—I'd walked in on Carlisle and Esme kissing more than once when I'd been human, so even now, when all my enhanced senses told me that Carlisle was alone, I still waited, just in case.

"Come in," Carlisle called.

"Hi," I said, shutting the door behind me. "Do you have a minute?"

Carlisle nodded. "I was just about to come downstairs, anyway. It sounds like Nessie and her uncles are either playing football or destroying the house."

"They were doing both, until a minute ago," I said with a smile. "Edward too. Esme made them go outside while she makes lunch for Jake and whoever else comes over later. I'm partially here to hide from Alice and Rosalie, who went shopping this weekend and want me to help them plan another fashion show for Nessie."

"Truly, that girl has the patience of a saint," Carlisle said, shaking his head. "So, what's the other reason you needed a minute?"

I sighed. "Honestly, this problem will probably never come up again, unless you have to change someone, but I just thought I should tell you that…well, when Edward changed me…"

"The morphine didn't work, did it?" Carlisle said quietly.

I stared at him. "When did you guess?"

"A while ago," Carlisle murmured. "I'm a doctor, Bella. I've worked with morphine for a long time, and I always knew that using it on you during the change was a long shot."

"…why do you think it didn't work?" I asked. "I mean, I remember that you and Edward planned in advance to give me a ton of morphine when the time came, and you tried it on Emmett too, so you must have thought it would work."

"I thought it _might_ work," Carlisle said gently. "That's why I was so amazed when you told me that you couldn't really remember the transformation process. It's so painful that for most of us, Alice being the obvious exception, it's a very vivid memory. Honestly, the best case scenario was that the morphine would have worked for the first few minutes, or possibly hours, that the venom moved through your veins, before it was gradually burned away. Morphine works on the central nervous system, so I thought that the effects would fade as your human body changed. When I thought about it later though, I realized that when I gave you morphine before, after James bit you, it didn't really start to work on you until Edward sucked the venom out."

"Oh," I said, feeling that this should have been obvious to me before now. "Wait, so Edward…"

"Was probably just as skeptical as I was that the morphine would work," Carlisle said, sounding slightly sheepishly. "But, I think it comforted him to act as though you might be spared the agony that he felt when I changed him. We thought it would comfort you too, to think that the pain might not be so bad."

I couldn't help but smile. "What, you thought there might be a placebo affect?"

"Stranger things have happened," Carlisle said, smiling now too. "Still, I'm sorry it didn't work, Bella."

"It did sort of work though," I said. "You were right. At first…well, for what seemed like the longest time really, I couldn't move. That's why I didn't cry out. Honestly, I don't have your self control—I was just frozen. I don't know when that stopped though. I mean, after a while, maybe I'd just been still for so long that I stopped even trying to move. I didn't want to make things even worse for Edward and the rest of you than they were already, so by the end, I was actually trying not to move. I was afraid I'd scream if I did. Anyway, I have no idea how long the morphine really worked."

Carlisle nodded sadly. "When you first opened your eyes and said you couldn't remember the agony of the change, I was so ecstatic that it wasn't until later, while you and Edward were gone hunting, that I stopped and really thought about your explanation. In retrospect, it seemed like you were trying to shield us from something."

"Yup," I said, feeling a little sheepish now myself. "Sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I just honestly haven't thought about it much. I mean, it's been almost a year now, and I've been so happy that it never bothered me that the morphine didn't work. The pain was worth it, to have what I have now."

Carlisle smiled before giving me a brief hug. As always, it amused me that it was easy to hug Carlisle, and much harder to hug Charlie. Then again, as a human, both my dad and I hadn't been very huggy people, and as a vampire, I was always worried about inadvertently killing Charlie if I got too close.

"I'm glad you're happy, Bella," Carlisle said simply. "I think we've all been a lot happier since you joined our family. You and Nessie."

I grinned. "I'm glad you feel that way, because I'm sure attendance at this evening's fashion show is mandatory."

Carlisle chuckled. "I wouldn't miss it, even if I could escape. Between all the pictures and videos we've been taking of her, even Nessie's human family will never have to forget what she was like as a little girl."

I smiled at the thought of never forgetting Nessie as she was now; of all of us, human, vampire, and werewolf, remembering every detail of her short, but so far very happy childhood. The pain I'd suffered during the transformation was what had brought me to this moment, so in a way, I could look back on it not with horror, but with acceptance. I now had the most wonderful afterlife that anyone could ever have, so though I never wanted to feel anything close to it for the rest of eternity, I knew that if I had it to do over again, I would make the same choice, even knowing how much the change would hurt. It really had been worth it to have the life I had now with Edward and Nessie and all my new family. It had been a necessary evil, suffering through those days of agony, and now, I had forever to appreciate what came after it.


	172. Worst

Hi again! Today's second chapter is a bit sad: it's about Esme just before her wedding to Charles Evenson, and how she might have pictured her wedding day as being very different, were she able to marry someone else. Thanks as always for your reviews, and thanks to whoever it was who pointed out to me that my update of Chapter 22 ("Trust") was not in fact a chapter—what did I put in there instead? Actually, never mind, I probably don't want to know…

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 98 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! (Yay, we're finally down to double digits! :))

_1917_: Worst

Esme's POV

Staring down at her wedding dress, Esme felt too numb to regret letting her mother pick out the gown. The day had finally arrived, and so far, Esme felt that she was doing all right. She smiled when she thought that people expected her to, she didn't scream and run away when she saw her future husband, Charles Evenson, appear outside the church with his parents, and she didn't cry when her mother did.

"Oh, Esme, I'm so happy I lived to see this day!" her mother said tearfully, and Esme managed something like a smile. Both her parents had been very much in favor of this marriage, and as Esme looked at herself in the mirror one last time before the ceremony began, she listed all the reasons why. In her head, her parents' reasons somehow managed to sound both ridiculous and impossible to argue with.

First of all, she wasn't getting any younger, and all of her friends were already married. Second, her father, who had always been a sort of jack of all trades (he worked in a management capacity at a bank in town now, in addition to overseeing the operations of their small family farm), could benefit from a connection to the Evensons. Mr. Platt and the senior Mr. Evenson were friends, and a marriage between their children could help Mr. Platt rise to a higher position at the bank. That led Esme to reason number three for this marriage: her mother had been ill (with either a real or imagined illness) for some years now, and the medical bills were adding up. Well-connected in-laws could help Mr. Platt make more money, and then Mrs. Platt might finally get well…

Esme paused. She wondered when she'd started thinking of her parents as "Mr. Platt" and "Mrs. Platt." She'd called them that in her head sometimes when she'd been angry with them as a child, but now, apparently she'd been angry with them for so long that she couldn't even remember the last time that she'd called them "mother" and "father." Perhaps reason number four for her marriage to Charles Evenson was the main cause of her resentment: Esme had wanted to go west, to become a schoolteacher somewhere, to see more of the country, to get out of Ohio and not be a burden on her parents any longer…and they had said no.

"Esme, you don't have to work!" her mother had said indignantly. "Honestly, why would you even consider such a thing? At least consider my poor nerves before you go telling me about your ridiculous ideas!"

"Girls like you don't have to go begging for employment in the godforsaken wilderness, teaching idiot farm kids to spell their names with an 'x,'" her father had said gruffly before raising his newspaper to cover his face. "End of discussion."

And that had been that. Esme hadn't known what to say, how to convince her parents of how badly she needed to leave home and pursue her dream. She'd spent weeks trying to make them understand, and in return, they'd either ignored her or talked of her poor marriage prospects with increasing irritation. Their money problems aside (and never mind the fact that her father, a farmer turned bank employee, could barely sign his own name), Mr. and Mrs. Platt saw Esme's dream of teaching as an ugly thing that "girls from families of our sort" simply didn't talk about. It was maddening, the way her mother said so blithely,

"But dear, why would you want to work when you could find a nice husband?"

"Because maybe there's more to life than finding a husband!" Esme had said hotly, and after that, her mother, very much offended, hadn't spoken to her for three days. In the end, Esme had apologized, reluctantly, because it was hard to tell if the illnesses her mother complained about constantly were real or simply an act. As much as Esme disagreed with her mother, she hated to think that all her comments about pain and nerves and being so terribly sick and sad that she would never live to see her daughter married was only pretend, a plea for attention or a means of manipulating her only child.

_No_, Esme told herself, _no one could be so awful. _

In the end, Esme agreed to marry Charles Evenson when, one day, her mother collapsed. A doctor was called, and he seemed convinced of Mrs. Platt's sincerity when she described her symptoms, which made Esme feel terrible for ever doubting her mother's complaints. Mr. Platt had brought Charles Evenson over for dinner on two previous occasions by then, and he'd always been a guest at parties held at the Platt home, so Esme wasn't terribly surprised when he asked to speak with her the night her mother fell ill, on a visit ostensibly made to inquire after Mrs. Platt's health.

"I would like to ask for your hand in marriage," he'd said. He hadn't knelt. He'd simply stared at her, unsmiling as they sat two feet apart on the porch swing, and Esme wondered if he was nervous. Then she realized that he hadn't really _asked_ to marry her—rather, he'd told her that he wanted to ask, and his tone had been none too convincing. Esme had wondered if his parents were pushing him into this too, and somehow, that thought had comforted her slightly. If he had no personal inclination to marry her, then he wouldn't be disappointed when he realized that she certainly didn't love him. Perhaps what began as an unhappy marriage for both of them could turn into a friendship born of mutual sympathy, or at least a tolerable partnership…someday.

"I accept," Esme had said softly, because what choice did she have? Staying with her parents was becoming too much to bear, and at least now they couldn't complain that she wasn't married. And maybe her mother would get better now, and maybe Charles would let her take teaching classes, and perhaps she could teach at the school in town, at least until they had children…

It was, Esme thought now, gripping her father's arm lightly as he led her down the aisle, probably time to stop looking toward the future with such high expectations. Even if she could become a teacher now (which was unlikely, if Charles was anything like that king of propriety Mr. Platt), Esme wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of living with Charles and having his children. She wanted children…and she had imagined getting married for years now. But in her dreams, her groom and her future children were blond, with strange golden eyes, and they all smiled at her. Even now, Charles wasn't smiling as he said his vows in a dull, almost cold tone of voice.

"I do," Esme said quietly when it was her turn, and when Charles kissed her, too hard, Esme closed her eyes. Her hand shook as she signed the book before her that would make the marriage official, because a terrible thought had just occurred to her: what if this wasn't the worst day of her life after all? What if the worst was yet to come?


	173. Immortal

Hi everyone! In today's first chapter, Carlisle struggles with the deaths of patients and wonders why it never gets any easier to face death—Esme comforts him as best she can, but mostly she just sits with him and lets him talk. Thanks as always for your reviews, and thanks to the reviewer who pointed out the mistake I made back in chapter 25—seriously, it bugs me to think I've made mistakes, so if you see one, tell me, and I'll fix it! Look for one more chapter after this one. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 95 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! (There are even fewer days until volume 2 of the graphic novel is released :)).

_2000_: Immortal

Carlisle's POV

Finally, the day was over, and Carlisle could leave the hospital, drive home, and climb into the bed he shared with Esme and feel miserable in peace. It had been the sort of awful day that, even after centuries of seeing all of the unpleasant ways that human beings could die, still shook Carlisle. He supposed that it would be worse if he weren't moved—if he ever reached a point where he could face human suffering without feeling any anguish himself, then he would have to quit being a doctor. Empathy was a vital part of what he did, but on days like this, it made his job incomparably hard.

It was especially hard watching children die. Carlisle had seen more than one such death that day, and every time, the experience left him feeling a mixture of intense sadness and frustration. It just seemed so unfair that all the potential a child had could be lost in an instant in an accident, or could waste away over months or years from illness. And even if they'd lived, Carlisle knew that he would almost certainly outlive all the children he treated, and their children, and their grandchildren. Why did he get so many years when some people got so few?

Carlisle wasn't surprised to find Esme waiting for him when he got home.

"Alice warned me about your day," she said simply. "She and the others went to a movie, and she said that after that, they'd give us some privacy until morning. So, let's go upstairs."

Carlisle smiled gratefully, took her hand without a word, and followed her to their room. They both got into bed, and Carlisle closed his eyes. For a long time, he simply lay there with his arms wrapped around Esme and pretended to sleep. It was something that he'd done for a long time—after centuries of having to face bad days at work, sometimes the only thing that he wanted to do when he came home was sleep…which was impossible. But pretending was oddly relaxing, especially with Esme beside him, breathing softly, her arms around him and her face nestled against his collar bone. They lay there for hours, both of them breathing quietly, as if they were really sleeping, and it was almost sunrise before Carlisle spoke.

"Five kids today," he said finally. "One…well, he'd been sick for a while."

"Not the boy you told me about," Esme whispered. "Matt, the one with the model airplanes?"

Carlisle nodded mutely. "And before him, an infant, and then a fourteen year old hit by a car, and…"

"Oh, Carlisle…" Esme said sadly, taking his hand and kissing his fingers.

"It's hard, even at a big hospital, to have to deal with so many deaths one right after the other," Carlisle said quietly, "but in a small community like this…well, everyone was shocked. It's a lot to take in, in one day. I don't know how humans do it."

"I think they're just like us that way," Esme murmured. "They do whatever they can to make the pain go away. They just…have more options than we do."

"Parents shouldn't ever have to bury their children," Carlisle said, finally opening his eyes and looking at her, because after a day like this, he always felt that he only understood a fraction of the despair that had led Esme to try and take her own life. Just empathizing with the parents who had to go through such an ordeal was enough to make him feel almost as old as he really was.

Esme nodded. "You're right. But I know you did your best, Carlisle. You always do, and even though it's not always enough, I know you'll never stop trying."

Carlisle closed his eyes again and pressed his face against her hair. Somehow, it meant so much to hear her say that. Because of course, it was true. Tomorrow, more than one member of the hospital staff would take the day off—most of the humans that Carlisle worked with needed a day off after today, but not all of them would take one—so he would have to be there, to fill in for the people who weren't. But that was all right.

"I remember the moment I realized that I wanted to become a doctor," Carlisle said quietly. "It happened so suddenly. After years of studying every subject that interested me, I realized that what I wanted more than anything was to help people. That if I could make the lives of humans better, then my own life might be better too. That it would…mean something for me to be immortal, to outlive all my patients, and that as long as I was a part of this world, I could make the people in it a little healthier, and maybe happier too. So even after a day like this, I know the only thing I can do to start to feel better is go back tomorrow, and try to help someone else."

Esme smiled warmly at him. "And you will. I know it."

Carlisle smiled down at her, and then they kissed for a while, slowly and gently, the way they often did when it was time to start a new day but neither of them wanted to get out of bed just yet. Every time he kissed her, Carlisle found that a part of him was always thinking, _thank you, thank you, thank you for loving me, thank you for giving me more than a reason to exist. Thank you for making me _happy_ I exist…_

"I have a couple of hours left before my shift starts," he said at last.

"Let's go for a swim then," Esme said.

The back of the house faced a small lake, and by the time it was light out, humans would be making their way to the public beach to swim or launch boats to go fishing in, but for now it was dark, so Carlisle and Esme quickly slipped out of their clothes and slid into the water. They raced each other, swimming across and then all around the lake, pushing each other playfully and scaring fish as they passed. A few minutes before sunrise, they crept back into the house, their clothes damp; Alice had obviously told the others that they could come home, so the house was full of the sounds of someone changing clothes, a TV turning on, Edward at his piano, two people kissing…and then Carlisle kissed Esme again, doubling the sound.

Soon, the kids would leave for school, he would leave for the hospital, and Esme would leave for her job at the art gallery downtown. For now though, they were all together, and Carlisle thought, not for the first time, that if tomorrow he suddenly found himself mortal again, he would be perfectly happy to age and die after having exactly the life he had now. Yes, his job could be heartbreaking, but he would never do anything else, because the pain of losing a patient couldn't compare to the joy of saving one. And even when the painful moments that punctuated his long career in medicine seemed like too much to bear, he had Esme to come home to. Having her—having a family—was so much more than he'd ever really dared to dream of in all his years alone. Immortality, which had once seemed like such a curse, felt like a blessing now; he had forever to love Esme, to love their children, and to try and improve the lives of mortals. On a morning like this one, the immortal future ahead of him seemed like something to look forward to.


	174. Jitters

Hi again everyone! Here's a chapter that deals with Esme and Renée talking just before Edward and Bella's wedding; though they're very different people, as moms, I feel like they would both be a little nervous right before the ceremony. (And of course, Esme would want to be honest with Renée, but she would have to lie a little too...) Thanks as always for your really and truly wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :) (Maybe not Sunday though, since I'll be traveling...hmm, maybe I'll update on Friday, or next Tuesday. We'll see :)).

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 95 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! (Also, this week's issue of Entertainment Weekly features a lovely cover image of Edward and Bella and more pretty pictures inside! :))

_2006_: Jitters

Renée's POV

There were only a couple of hours left before the wedding started, but Renée guessed that Bella might like a little privacy while she got dressed, so she took a quick tour of the Cullens' house with Esme. Renée had been one of the first guests to arrive—she and Phil had gotten there early, just in case there was anything they could help out with, but everything was ready. Now, Phil was sitting in the kitchen with Emmett and Jasper, the oldest Cullen boys, and Charlie, watching sports on a mini TV. Meanwhile, it was clear to Renée that Alice and Esme had everything under control. All the decorations were finished, the flowers were arranged, all the chairs were set up, and everything was prepared for the reception that would follow the ceremony. Now all that was left to do was marvel at the Cullens' beautiful house.

"I can't believe this place," Renée said for what felt like the umpteenth time as Esme showed her around the upper floors. All the furniture was so beautiful that Renée couldn't help but think about redecorating when she got home, and all of the paintings in Carlisle's office made her wish that she knew more about art. Esme paused outside a door, and inside, Renée could hear Alice and Bella talking.

"You can go in, if you'd like," Esme offered. "I know Alice won't mind."

Renée smiled and shook her head. "I'll let them have their girl time. Honestly, Bella's never really had a lot of close friends—when she came out here, I was so worried, but seeing her now, with friends her own age…well, it's sort of amazing to see how much she's changed."

"Edward's a lot like that too," Esme said, smiling. "I mean, he's always been a quiet boy, and he mostly just spends time with his brothers and sisters. Since he's met Bella, he's really changed too."

"They grow up so fast," Renée said quietly. "And now they're getting married. I guess...I thought I had a few more years before I'd see Bella in a wedding dress. Of course, I might start crying so hard once I see her coming down the aisle that I'll barely be able to see her at all."

"We have lots of tissues ready," Esme said, offering Renée a small package of Kleenex. "And we'll be taking lots of pictures, so you can see the whole ceremony perfectly after the fact. Don't worry about it being a little blurry while it's going on."

Renée laughed. "Okay. Fair warning though, I know I'm going to cry through the whole thing."

"I probably will too, so don't worry," Esme said with a chuckle.

"You know, when Charlie and I got married, it was nothing like this," Renée said, gazing around at the decorations. "I mean, we didn't exactly take long to decide to get married, so we just went to the courthouse one day with Charlie's parents, and that was that. Then, when I married Phil, we both decided we wanted a small ceremony, just a few friends and Phil's family. It's nice, having a big celebration like this."

"I suppose Edward and Bella both think this is all a little over the top right now," Esme said thoughtfully. "But you're right, it's nice to really celebrate a big event like this. Carlisle and I had a small wedding too. We'd been dating all through college, and right after graduation, we decided that it was time."

"Did any of the kids live with you then?" Renée asked.

"Edward, Emmett and Alice were living with Carlisle, after their parents died," Esme explained. "We got married right before we decided to adopt Edward and the others. Actually, Edward was the only guest at our wedding—Emmett and Alice had strep throat, so they stayed home that day."

Renée laughed. "I bet poor Alice at least was sorry to miss it. Even when she was younger, I bet she wanted to help plan things."

Esme laughed too. "You're right. She's already made us promise that she gets to plan a party for our tenth anniversary."

Renée grinned. "I can't wait to see that. Oh, Edward must have looked so cute at your wedding! Can I see any pictures of that?"

"They're in a photo album in here somewhere," Esme said thoughtfully. "After the reception, I'll find them."

Renée smiled at the thought of Edward, several years younger, standing with Carlisle and Esme in a little suit. She imagined that like Bella, he'd been a very serious kid, since now here they were, two serious eighteen year olds, getting married just out of high school, and both of them were just down to earth enough to make it work.

"I'm really glad that Edward and Bella took the time to really think about this," Renée said hesitantly. "I mean, after last year, when you moved…"

"Yes," Esme said with a sigh. "Edward had us worried too. I guess neither of them dealt with being apart very well, but it took time for them to realize that they really wanted to be together permanently. I think Edward and Bella were both reluctant to marry the first person they'd ever dated, or to get married so young."

"I know Bella was," Renée said. "Growing up, I always told her that doing something like that was a bad idea, because smart people waited until they were older to get married. But seeing them together when they visited us in Florida changed my mind. They're in love, but they're mature enough to know that there's more to a relationship than just infatuation. I think they're going to be really happy together, and at Dartmouth too! I can't wait to hear what their classes are like. Have they found an apartment yet?"

"They've looked at a few online," Esme said. "They'll either fly or take a road trip out there this summer so they can really get a feel for the place."

They talked about the kids' plans for college for a little while, which was a nice distraction from thinking about the impending wedding. Esme showed Renée the rest of the house, and then they headed back downstairs. When they got to the living room though, Renée glanced at the clock on the wall and gasped.

"Is it that late already?" she said. "Sorry for being so jumpy, I just can't believe it's almost time!"

"As the mothers of the kids getting married, I think it's just in our job description to be nervous today," Esme said, laughing. "Like something to eat while we wait?"

"No thanks," Renée said with a sigh. "I'm too edgy to be hungry right now. Once the reception starts though, you won't be able to keep me away from the food, probably."

"The caterers will be here pretty soon," Esme said, checking her watch. "Let's head outside and check on things there. Alice and Rosalie should be busy getting Bella ready for another hour or so."

"Okay," Renée said, feeling nervous all over again when she realized that the wedding was just over an hour away. "Esme, thank you again for setting all of this up. You and Alice have done an amazing job with everything."

"Well, thank you, but it's really been our pleasure," Esme said happily. "Thank _you_ for all your help, Renée. It's been a lot of fun getting to know you."

Renée smiled. She was happy to think that when her jitters about the wedding had passed (as they would once the wedding was over) and Bella and Edward had left for their honeymoon, she and Phil would both get to know the Cullens better. Even after they went home, Renée was sure that she and Esme Cullen would be friends. Bella wasn't the only one gaining a new family today; Renée was too, and as nervous as she was for the wedding to start, at the same time, she could hardly wait for it to begin.


	175. Law

Hi everyone! Sorry for not updating last week, but between traveling and trying to catch up with stuff at work, I ended up being a bit more swamped than I expected to be. However, I'm finally back, and as a way of expressing my contrition, I have three chapters ready for you this week! (I'll be posting two tonight and a third in a day or two, because I'm too tired to finish editing the third right now. :)) This first one takes place during Edward's early days as a vampire, and how he might have struggled with his desire to take his anger out on Carlisle while also starting to like him after getting to know him better. Thanks as always for your reviews, and look for one more chapter after this one tonight and another later this week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 81 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! So exciting! :)

_1918_: Law

Edward's POV

I was taking a break from sullen silence today, because for the first time in a week, Carlisle had something interesting to discuss with me, other than the fact that he'd recently turned me into a bloodthirsty monster. I'd been a vampire for less than a month, and so far, almost all of my time had been occupied with hunting, resisting my desire to succumb to the urge to hunt humans, and alternating between wanting to kill Carlisle Cullen and wanting to hear all about my new life. Now, after I'd drained a deer a few miles outside Chicago, past the edge of the suburbs and between two farmers' pastures, Carlisle was digging a hole for his own deer carcass and thinking about what he wanted to tell me.

"Who are the Volturi?" I finally asked impatiently.

Carlisle looked up, but he didn't seem surprised. After just a few weeks, the fact that I could read his mind no longer seemed to catch him off guard.

"They're the only thing that passes for a governing body in the vampire world," Carlisle said. "Coven leaders rule their covens, but the Volturi have the power and authority to enforce the laws they've created throughout the world. They're essentially the coven that rules all other covens."

"They make laws that all vampires are supposed to follow?" I said skeptically. "What, did I miss the last vampire election?"

"They weren't elected, so I suppose they're really more like our royalty," Carlisle said.

"So what are the laws, and what are they supposed to accomplish?" I asked, still a little baffled by the concept of a sort of vampire code of conduct. Aside from not slaughtering too many innocents, what were we supposed to do?

"The Volturi don't have many laws, but the ones they have made are designed to benefit our kind," Carlisle explained. "We aren't allowed to expose what we are to humans, which means not killing humans conspicuously, not setting foot in sunlight where humans might see us, and not creating vampires who are too young, physically and mentally, to learn to resist the urge to feed. That's why you'll never see any vampire children. The Volturi destroyed any vampire below the physical age of about twelve centuries ago, because vampire children and infants hunted so voraciously and so carelessly. It's also forbidden to create vampires for the express purpose of setting them on another coven to steal their territory. That practice was once common in the southern part of North America, and though it's supposedly been ended by the Volturi, I suspect it still goes on, albeit more quietly than in previous decades."

To my surprise, I was actually interested in this. So far, Carlisle was the only vampire I'd ever met, and his thoughts about the Volturi, with their cloistered society, great subterranean halls, grey and black cloaks, and centuries of supremacy were chilling but fascinating.

"You lived with them once?" I asked.

Carlisle nodded. "I was something of a curiosity in Volterra. Aro, one of the three leaders of the Volturi coven, had never heard of a vampire who refused to drink human blood, and he was…amused. The other leaders had never seen a vampire like me either, but they were less amused. I stayed for several years, because I enjoyed being part of a society again, and not just lurking on the fringes of one. I left for America to start practicing medicine full time when I realized that the patients I treated in Italy were being scrutinized by the Volturi…"

_…and when I finally realized that I wasn't going to convince Aro and the others to try to live without human blood._

I rolled my eyes. "They'd been living that way for, what, thousands of years, and you thought you could change their minds?"

Carlisle shrugged a bit sheepishly. "I'm the son of a minister who was very devoted to converting anyone he could. Maybe we're more alike than I'd care to think, at least as far as the erroneous belief that I can convert others to my way of thinking goes."

The good Dr. Cullen had a house out in the woods, miles and miles from Chicago, which we were going to stay in until I could be trusted not to kill anyone. I had no idea when that would be, so we were apparently stuck here indefinitely. My parents had been buried sometime during the days I'd spent in agony while my transformation into a vampire had run its course, and all I wanted now was to visit their graves in our family plot back in the city, but Carlisle insisted that it was still too dangerous. I was angry about it, and I would have been even angrier if he hadn't been genuinely sympathetic, and if I weren't able to hear him thinking of my mother's voice when she'd begged him to save me however he could. And he had saved me. As furious as I was to find myself with an unnatural taste for human blood, I had to acknowledge that Carlisle had done what my mother had asked him to, which left me conflicted. Most days, I couldn't decide if my hatred or my gratitude toward Carlisle was stronger, thus my frequent attempts to annoy him.

"Are the Volturi the reason you keep away from that human girl?" I said quickly, before I could rethink my admittedly cruel attempt to draw Carlisle out—it was downright infuriating at times, the way he stayed so calm when I was so angry, and so far, I hadn't managed to provoke Carlisle to my satisfaction. Even during my first week, when I'd destroyed most of his furniture and nearly thrown him out a window, the only time he'd even raised his voice was when I threatened to go looking for human blood to quench my thirst. He wasn't strong enough to stop me from leaving the house, but he slowed me down enough that in the end, he was able to talk me into hunting the bobcat who happened to cross our path before I could catch the scent of any humans. I didn't want to hurt people, not at all. I hated the idea of killing anyone, but I was so _thirsty_, and all I could think those first few days was that if I had the right kind of blood—human, not animal—then the awful burning in my throat would stop.

Contrary to my expectations, Carlisle actually reacted to my attempt to irritate him. "The Volturi are one reason, yes," he said stiffly. I could tell that he didn't want to talk about this, but I heard what he was thinking, so I couldn't resist pushing my advantage.

"You'd want to keep her human, but you'd want to tell her the truth, and that's against the law, so you won't go near her," I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "You care about her, so you won't do to her what you did to me?"

"Because you didn't have a future left," Carlisle said quietly, and he sounded tired now, not irritated. He clearly didn't like to talk about the girl, and even now, Carlisle was translating Dante's Inferno from Italian into French, recalling the stock page he'd read that morning in the newspaper, and reciting the Greek alphabet, backwards, to keep me from hearing the girl's name.

"She had a future though," I said, and I was quiet now too. Usually, I spoke louder than was necessary, given our remarkable hearing; that was another one of my failed techniques for annoying my new friend Dr. Cullen. But now I could hear that Carlisle sincerely wished that I had had a chance to live a human life the way the girl I sometimes caught him thinking of did. Not for his sake though—somehow, impossibly, I hadn't driven him to distraction yet—but instead because he felt sorry for me. It was clear to Carlisle that all my immature attempts to make him angry were just a diversion, a game to keep myself distracted from the fact that my parents were dead, that I was a vampire, and that I was thirsty for blood. I was never going to go to war, or follow my father into his law practice, or ever have the kind of life I'd wanted, but a small part of me admitted that that wasn't Carlisle Cullen's fault. He was just…the only person I had. And so he was the only person I could be angry at, who I could blame for all my sorrow.

"I'm sorry, Edward," Carlisle said finally. It wasn't the first time he'd said it, but it was the first time I'd looked him in the eye when he did. "I hated this life once too, and I never would have forced it upon you, if…"

_If your mother hadn't asked what she did, if I hadn't been so lonely for so long, if there had been any way to save you_, he thought sadly.

I stared at Carlisle for a moment, trying not to give away any emotion. I still felt that infuriating mixture of hatred and gratitude every time I looked him in the eye, but for once, I felt the urge to explain myself, to tell Carlisle that I wasn't just going to be moody and bad-tempered forever.

"Okay," I said at last. "Just so you know, I'm still not ready to be friends. But I'm also not prepared to hate you forever either, so…just give me a few more weeks to...adjust to all this. Then I might actually be able to have a civil conversation with you."

Carlisle, who continuously confirmed my impression that he had lived a solitary life for so long that he wasn't quite sane at times, smiled at me. "All right. I'd like that, Edward."

I tried not to sigh. When I'd been human, I'd thought of someday practicing law like my father had. Now here I was, a vampire being asked to follow a very short and simple list of laws in the course of wandering the earth and feeding on the blood of other creatures. As Carlisle had said of his time in Volterra though, knowing that there were rules in this new world did make me feel like I was a part of something again—that there was a whole world of vampires out there to consider, not just Carlisle and me, and it cheered me slightly to think that it might not be just the two of us forever.

Maybe Carlisle would forget about the mysterious human girl someday, and he'd find a mate. That was the way I'd heard him think of most covens in the past—most were small, one mated pair with sometimes one or two other vampires traveling with them. I doubted that I'd ever find a mate, but given Carlisle's age, it seemed that he was sort of overdue for one. It was strange to realize that what I wanted was what I thought of as an "ordinary" vampire family, but there it was. As a human, I'd enjoyed my relatively ordinary life, so maybe it only made sense that I wanted as much normalcy as I could get from life as an immortal; with that thought in mind, I resolved to try and be a little more tolerant of Carlisle. Regardless of how angry I was at being changed without my consent, he _had_ saved my life. I would follow him, my coven leader, and I would follow the law, and though I could never regain the life I'd lost, maybe I could at least have some kind of life as a vampire, if I tried.


	176. Fashion

Today's second chapter is about how the Cullen women might both enjoy and despise changes in the fashion world as the years go by. (The fifties especially were, in my opinion, a time when there were some really cute trends in clothing, as well as some that seem a bit random…) Look for one more chapter later this week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't wait to get Volume 2 of the graphic novel, which comes out October 11th! :)

_1954_: Fashion

Rosalie's POV

Shifting the mirror slightly, Rosalie tilted her head so her ponytail would move, and then she examined the back of her skirt.

"Like it?" Alice asked. "Esme's working on mine now—we both think she has the shape right, but what do you think? And keep in mind that I can already see you wearing this to school tomorrow."

"I like the shape fine, but what's with the dog?" Rosalie muttered. "Who decided that a perfectly good skirt would somehow be improved by the addition of some dumpy little poodle?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "Rose, there's a reason it's called a poodle skirt. There has to be a poodle on it."

"I've seen other girls at school decorate theirs with things like decks of cards and records made of felt," Rosalie argued.

"So, would you prefer something like that instead?" Alice said skeptically.

"Well, no," Rosalie said, sniffing distastefully. "I just don't see why we have to have anything on the damn skirt, except that everyone else does."

"'Except that everyone else does,'" Alice repeated, sounding amused. "The fickle world of fashion summed up in five words."

"All right, here's yours, Alice," Esme said, coming into the room carrying a long white skirt. Rosalie's was red, and she liked the contrast between the bright color and her pale skin, but the little dog still annoyed her.

"Like it, Rosalie?" Esme asked.

"It's a perfect fit," Rosalie said, stepping away from the mirror with a sigh. "Thank you, Esme."

"Rosalie and I were just discussing the inexplicable presence of poodles on poodle skirts," Alice said cheerfully.

"Just who decided that these things were fashionable, anyway?" Rosalie demanded. "I'll never understand how trends like this become so popular."

"That's the eternal question, isn't it?" Esme said, watching as Alice slid on her poodle skirt. "Is it too loose around the waist?"

"Nope, it fits perfectly," Alice said happily, twirling around in the skirt. "Thanks, Esme!"

"Are you going to make one for yourself?" Rosalie asked.

"I think this is one trend I'll pass on following," Esme said with a smile. "These things look cute on girls your age, but on me, it might come off as a desperate attempt to look younger."

Rosalie scowled. "Hardly. You look good _and_ young in everything."

"Well, so do you," Esme said, straightening the collar of Rosalie's shirt. "Even when you think what you're wearing is a bit silly."

"Remember those stupid turbans that were supposedly so stylish in the late thirties?" Rosalie said with a grimace.

Esme laughed. "And pill box hats. I never cared for those."

"My mother made me wear them sometimes," Rosalie said, shaking her head. "I hated having to wear my hair up all the time."

"There were some nice shoes in the thirties though," Alice put in. "I remember going to Pittsburgh once and seeing all different kinds in a shop window, and I was so amazed that there were so many varieties of shoes!"

"That surprised me in Paris in the twenties too," Esme said. "Before that, shoes were usually shapeless for the most part, and mine were always slipping off when we went hunting. I had a pair of men's patent leather shoes I used to wear when I really wanted shoes that would actually stay on. Edward used to joke that Carlisle and I had matching pairs."

Alice laughed. "I had a pair of those too! But once when I was in New York, I started seeing shoes with cute little straps and pointed toes, so I…well, I, um, _borrowed_ a nicer pair of shoes."

Rosalie frowned. Having always had enough money for clothes, both as a human and as a vampire, she was always a little depressed when she heard or really thought about Alice's days as a nomad, when she'd had to steal everything she'd owned. Even during her most miserable moments as a Cullen, Rosalie had always had new clothes to look forward to, and she hated to think that her sister had missed out on even that small luxury for most of her immortal life.

"I'm sure if whoever you took your new shoes from had seen your old patent leather ones, they would have understood that it was a true footwear emergency," Rosalie said with a smile, and Alice laughed.

"I think for the first decade of this life, I wore out shoes faster than anything else," she said. "I mean, clothes I could repair myself, but shoes were harder."

"Edward actually bought me a book on cobbling one year for Christmas, because I kept trying to fix our shoes every time a favorite pair wore out," Esme said with a chuckle. "He meant it as a joke, but it was really very useful."

Rosalie shuddered at the thought of fixing her own shoes, or clothes for that matter. "I used to hate mending clothes. When I'd damage something, my mother would always make me try to fix it first before she took it anywhere to be properly repaired, as a rather draconian lesson in responsibility, I suppose. I was forever stabbing myself in the fingers with needles, sewing things crookedly, and thinking that my mother might be a more forgiving person if her corset weren't so tight."

"Ugh, corsets," Esme said with a shudder. "When those went out of style after the war, I was thrilled. It amazes me that to this day, some poor women still insist on wearing them."

Alice frowned. "The days when corsets were around are certainly a period of fashion history I'm glad I can't remember, whether I was around then or not. And I'm doubly glad I've never had to wear one."

"Likewise, but who knows what new ridiculous and supposedly fashionable things we'll be wearing a few years from now," Rosalie muttered darkly, staring down at the dubious fashion statement that was the poodle sewn to her skirt.


	177. Romance

Hi everyone! Today's special Wednesday update is a fun one set in Paris a couple of years after Carlisle and Esme were married. Thanks once again for your reviews, which really do make me extremely happy every time I read them (you cannot underestimate their cheering effect on me :)), and I'll see you again on Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 78 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! :)

_1923_: Romance

Esme's POV

It had started to snow, but Esme and Carlisle continued their leisurely stroll beside the Seine, watching, as darkness fell, the lights of Paris flicker to life, their reflections shining on the smooth water of the river. They walked hand in hand, and though most people were hurrying indoors, Esme smiled when she saw a few other couples out enjoying the quiet and privacy that the weather afforded them on usually crowded streets. Esme couldn't stop marveling at the beauty of Paris. She'd enjoyed London, the city of Carlisle's birth, when they'd stopped there a few weeks before, but she'd appreciated its history more than its rather dreary weather, though the fog and clouds had made it easy to spend most days outside. Paris, on the other hand, was just one beautiful site after another, and somehow the winter weather only served to accentuate the city's grandeur.

It was amazing to see a place she'd been reading about for years. Ever since they'd arrived on this, their latest stop on their tour of Europe, she'd been sketching the skyline, the awe-inspiring churches, statues, gardens, and palaces that seemed to wait around every corner, and earlier that day, she'd sat on a bench sketching the Eiffel Tower. For hours she drew, filling up most of a sketchbook with little details that she wanted to capture perfectly when she tried her hand at painting the tower when they got home. Carlisle had lain on the bench beside her, his head in her lap, and though she'd threatened to use him as an easel, he'd only smiled.

"I don't mind," he'd said. "Two years ago, I wouldn't have believed I could ever be lucky enough to be your easel, let alone your husband."

That had made Esme stop and think, amazed. She and Carlisle had been married for almost two years now, and it still amused her to reflect on those first few months of her life as a vampire, when they'd both been almost too shy to speak to each other at times. Of course, at other times, they could hardly stop talking, even though they'd both been too afraid to say the words "I love you" for a long time, after which every doubt that had seemed so insurmountable before seemed insignificant. Now here they were, traveling the world together, seeing all kinds of incredible places and fascinating things.

Since coming to Paris, Esme realized that though she hadn't exactly missed going to parties, with Carlisle, they could actually be fun. Though they didn't dare attend many, they were invited to a few gatherings by immortal acquaintances of Carlisle's who liked to hover on the edge of Parisian society. Esme was amazed to meet people that she'd only read about in magazines back home: writers, artists, and all kinds of interesting people she'd never imagined she'd get to meet were actually interested in meeting her, which was a little shocking, but it was flattering too.

This trip was only possible now that Esme was no longer a newborn; two years before, she would have been far too wild to even attempt a brief conversation with humans. But now, after nearly three years as a vampire, though her throat burned if she stayed inside too long, Esme felt mostly in control of herself at social functions, though it helped if a window was open to let in some fresh air. It helped to have Carlisle standing next to her too; while she was feeling more confident in her ability to resist her thirst all the time, nothing helped her resolve to resist the temptation of human blood like having Carlisle beside her. Being with him, and enjoying the novel situation of having other people know that they were a couple, made Esme feel like she could do anything.

Edward attended parties or visited museums and theaters with them most days, but he enjoyed spending the majority of his time at night attending concerts, which could be found throughout the city. (Experience had apparently taught Edward to avoid his parents at night, Esme thought with sheepish amusement—he knew that once the sun set and she and Carlisle were alone in a room together, they would invariably do what young married couples the world over did). Edward was a bit like a kid in a candy store, eagerly taking in the performances of skillful musicians, buying sheet music to take home, and earlier that week, he'd bought a violin that he'd decided to learn to play. Esme and Carlisle were both happy to see him so happy. Though it could be hard for him to be surrounded by the thoughts of so many people, he'd been growing a bit weary of rural Ashland before they'd finally left, and after all, Esme told herself, Edward had grown up in Chicago. _He really is a city boy at heart, _she thought fondly._ He and Carlisle both are._

"What are you smiling about?" Carlisle asked with a grin.

Esme chuckled. "Other than the obvious, that I'm in Paris, it's a beautiful night, and my wonderful husband is beside me, I was smiling at the thought of how different Edward's been since we got here."

Carlisle smiled knowingly. "He was like this when we visited Chicago and New York a few years ago too, right before we moved to Wisconsin. Edward had been a vampire for about eighteen months by then, and I thought since he was finally safe enough to travel, he'd enjoy a trip. He does love cities."

"Doesn't hearing so many minds at once bother him though?" Esme wondered.

"Sometimes, but there are so many pleasant things to occupy his mind that I think he finds it easier to ignore all but the worst thoughts," Carlisle explained. "And the nice thing about a big city is that if he hears someone thinking something incriminating, it's easier to find a police station and leave a tip about a human criminal anonymously. We have to be a lot more careful doing that in small towns, where we'd be easily recognized and remembered."

"Even in a big city, I think you and Edward are both pretty hard to forget," Esme said with a chuckle. "Everywhere we go, I see poor girls falling in love with you two left, right, and center."

Carlisle shook his head, looking bemused. "I take it you didn't notice half the men in the room at that little party we went to last night falling in love with you? Ernest Hemingway was staring at you, you know."

Esme laughed. "I didn't, actually. I guess I was too busy staring at my husband, who really looks wonderful in his fine new suits, if I do say so myself."

Carlisle grinned. "Thank you. You're becoming quite the accomplished tailor, you know."

Esme smiled. Sewing clothes had become a new hobby of hers back home, and though at first she'd been more enthusiastic than skillful, now the clothes she made looked store bought; Esme had already seen a number of wildly expensive dresses in French shops that she wanted to try her hand at making once she got back to her sewing machine.

As they continued their stroll toward their hotel, Esme thought of something that confused her.

"Why did you two decide to settle in Ashland when you both prefer bigger cities?" she asked.

"Well, the hunting was easier, for one," Carlisle said. "I've lived in New York, Chicago, and practically every big city in the eastern U.S. really, and it gets old, always having to run out past the suburbs to hunt. And given Edward's thirst when he was a newborn, it was a lot safer living out in the country, where he could always get some fresh air, than living in a city surrounded by the smells of people."

"But then why not find a place somewhere closer to Chicago once he got to be a few years old, or in upstate New York?" Esme wondered.

"That would still have been a bit risky," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "I have friends here in Paris, so no one minds our being here temporarily, but I don't know anyone in New York or Chicago at the moment. When I've lived in big cities, I've done so after meeting with the leader of the coven or covens in the area. Given my diet, they almost never minded my hanging around their territory, but bringing an unpredictable newborn into another vampire's hunting range would have been frowned upon."

"So, other vampires might have objected if you and Edward moved to a city?" Esme said, marveling at how much she still didn't know about being a vampire. Knowing and loving Carlisle over the past two years had clearly distracted her from thinking of these questions, though it cheered her to think that Carlisle too had been sufficiently distracted that he hadn't thought to raise these issues.

"Visiting is usually allowed, but yes, settling near a big city can be viewed as threatening behavior to the vampires that already claim that territory. And every decent sized metropolis in the world has a population of vampires. Usually it's a mix of covens and nomads passing through, but nomads often get killed if they hunt in a coven's territory for too long or too conspicuously. Edward and I agreed on Ashland for our next home a few months after I found him, because by then he understood some of the rules about how our kind relate to each other, and in a place like Ashland, I knew we wouldn't have to fight anyone for territory."

"I see," Esme said slowly, impressed as she often was by Carlisle's foresight and loving nature. Changing Edward had forced him to change his whole life, but he'd adjusted to his new circumstances willingly, even eagerly, and he'd done it in such a way that minimized the danger for humans as well as for Edward and himself. "But you know, I'd like to see New York someday too."

"That can be arranged," Carlisle said with a smile. "I've done a bit of checking, and it looks like there's no coven living near Rochester just now. After we finish this visit to the Continent, we might consider going back and settling there—New York City is a safe distance away, but it's still close enough that we could easily run there if we wanted to see a show or do some shopping now and then."

"That sounds perfect," Esme said, kissing him on the cheek. "Though Edward and I do a lot more shopping than you do."

Carlisle chuckled. "Thank you again for the new suits, by the way."

Esme shrugged. "The fabric was on sale, and sewing them gave me something to do before we left. You know, you're not an easy person to find gifts for."

Carlisle smiled at her and squeezed her hand as they entered the lobby of the hotel. "That's just because I already have everything I want."

As they stepped into the elevator and waited to reach their floor, only the presence of the elevator operator stopped Esme from kissing Carlisle frantically and racing him to their room. This hotel was a new one—Edward had been staying in the same hotel for a week now, but Esme and Carlisle kept having to switch rooms and motels every time they broke a bed, which had happened more than once since coming to Paris. Every time it happened, Esme was mortified, but Carlisle never minded; if anything, he seemed rather pleased.

"Esme," he'd said after the last time it had happened. "You know that I'd happily buy every bed in Paris and break them all with you, if you wouldn't object."

Esme had laughed. "But I would object," she'd said. "It would be a waste of perfectly good beds, and a strain on even your generosity."

"The fact that you've been so good as to end close to three centuries of celibacy has made me very generous when it comes to anything having to do with beds though," he'd pointed out with a playful grin. After quickly dressing, stepping downstairs to speak to the manager about the "defective" bed, and being shown to a new room, he'd undressed her again, and they'd very nearly broken a second bed that night.

Esme grinned at the memory and squeezed Carlisle's hand. He seemed to guess the turn her thoughts had taken, because as soon as the elevator door opened, he quickly led her to their new suite.

"Well," Carlisle said, stepping into the room and locking the door behind them. "Shall we try out our new bed?"

In answer to his question, Esme dropped the bag that held her sketchbook, pulled off her coat and flung it over a chair, and then kissed him the way she'd imagined in the elevator, pinning him against the door while she tugged his scarf off and tried to unbutton his suit. Carlisle, without breaking the kiss, scooped her up and moved them to the bed, and as she ran her hands through his hair, Esme marveled at how her life, once humdrum at best and at worst terrifying, had turned into something out of a fairytale. Her human life had ended as a tragedy, but her life as an immortal had now become an incomparable romance.


	178. Important

Hi everyone! Today's first chapter is just a short one about the Cullens hunting together and a serendipitous day from Carlisle's past. Thank you very, very much for your reviews, and look for one more chapter after this one tonight! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 74 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! :)

_1938_: Important

Carlisle's POV

It was a beautiful day, and though the blue sky was mostly covered by clouds, sunlight still peeked out from time to time, which was why Carlisle wanted to hunt quickly and get home. Now though, he was standing on a hill, holding Esme's hand, and listening with growing amusement to a conversation between his wife, who'd noticed a touching nature tableau, and their children, who were decidedly less moved by the gentle beauty of the natural world.

"Just look at them," Esme whispered, pointing toward the three deer, two fawns and their mother, grazing on a distant hillside. "How can you talk about eating something so cute?"

"Honestly, sometimes I wonder about you Esme," Rosalie said, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah," Emmett chuckled. "What kind of predator are you?"

"A very competent one, which is why I choose to hunt grown up animals with lots of blood in them," Esme said loftily. "Not skinny mothers and their adorable babies."

"All right, all right," Emmett said, shaking his head and clearly still on the verge of laughter. "We'll go south, you guys can go north—"

"And I'll go east, where I hope to find lots of cute animals to eat," Edward said, grinning wickedly before sprinting off.

"Very funny!" Esme called, shaking her head at him, but grinning too. Carlisle knew as well as she did that Edward wasn't going to go near the doe with the two fawns, and neither were Rosalie and Emmett. After all, it was Esme's birthday, and if she wanted to point out cute animals and then not hunt them, no one was going to argue with her.

"What else do you want to do today, aside from this?" Carlisle asked.

Esme shrugged, taking his hand as they walked through a shady copse of trees and smiling mischievously. "Well, I can think of lots of things I'm going to want to do later, when we're alone, but for now, let's find something better than deer to hunt."

Carlisle grinned. "I think we can manage that."

It took three hours, but after running all the way to southern Canada, they finally found several black bears that at least tasted better than deer.

"You know, I was in New York on this exact day in 1895," Carlisle said, glancing toward the horizon in the direction of that distant city. "There was a small circus passing through town, and I guess they'd stopped to feed the animals, because some of the performers were playing for tips near the station. I was walking past, looking at everything along with a big crowd of kids and other people going to catch a train like I was, and then a fortune teller, sitting at a little table between the other circus performers, pointed right at me, and looked me in the eye. Then she said, 'something that will change your life forever is going to happen today.'"

"You're kidding," Esme said, looking surprised.

"It wasn't until years later that I discovered that that was the day you were born," Carlisle said with a smile.

"But then," Esme said slowly, "that was either a remarkable coincidence or a rather eerily accurate prediction, though a rather vague one too."

"At the time, I thought nothing of it at all," Carlisle said with a shrug. "I suppose I never told you before because it seemed so unimportant at the time. And now that I've known you for years, it's always seemed silly to worry about what might have been if you hadn't been born that day. But if you hadn't…well, the future would have been very different, in a way that wouldn't have been for the better for either of us."

"I'm not sure it would really have been positive _or_ negative for me, since I wouldn't have existed to know the difference," Esme pointed out, but she slipped her arm through his and smiled up at him. "I see your point though. There are a lot of reasons I'm glad I exist now, not the least of which is that you'd be lonely if I didn't."

"I'd be worse than lonely, I think. So," Carlisle said, leaning down and kissing her on the forehead. "What seemed like an ordinary day at the time actually turned out to be, in one sense, the most important day of my life. Of course, I can think of other important days that I enjoyed more. Like the day I first met you."

Esme smiled. "What about the day you found me, and changed me?"

"That was certainly important, but I prefer to remember the day the change ended, and you opened your eyes and remembered who I was."

"And the first time you kissed me," Esme said, tugging him down by the collar so their mouths were level. "That was an important milestone."

"Mmm," Carlisle agreed, smiling as they kissed. "And when we got married…and our honeymoon…"

"All very important days, and weeks," Esme whispered. "You know, we agreed a long time ago that since you don't know when exactly you were born, today's your birthday too. What would _you_ like to do today?"

Carlisle smiled down at the most important person in his life. "Let's go home, and I'll show you."


	179. Longing

Hi again! Today's second chapter is about the Cullen guys struggling with their desire to join the war effort during World War II, but knowing that risking discovery is too dangerous. Thanks as always for all your reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday! Have a great week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't believe there are only 74 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1! :)

_1941_: Longing

Emmett's POV

America had joined the war just the week before, and Emmett was feeling more than a little frustrated. His human brothers, cousins, and maybe even his father would be joining the army soon, if they hadn't already, and he was fairly certain that his sisters were going to become nurses or factory workers or whatever else they could do to help the war effort…and Emmett wasn't allowed to do anything.

"You can go to school, you can collect scrap metal, and you can _talk_ about joining the army when you and Rose go to town," Esme had explained as gently as possible right after they'd all listened to Roosevelt's speech on the radio. "But you know you can't sign up for anything, Emmett. You're—"

"Too strong to pass as a human, plus I've only been dead for six years, so someone I knew when I was alive could still recognize me," Emmett said grimly, repeating what Rosalie had told him as soon as they'd heard the news of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. "I _know_, Esme."

"Okay," Esme said, turning to her eldest son next. "Edward?"

Edward nodded tersely. "Fine."

"We can't be sure how many troops are going to be needed yet, but there's a good chance that the three of us are going to have to pretend to be in Europe or the Pacific for at least a few months at a time," Carlisle said, and Emmett was slightly mollified to see that though Carlisle sounded calm, he looked almost as depressed as Emmett felt. "That means no going into town, no letting any humans see you, all right?"

"You're going to stop working?" Edward said, staring at Carlisle in surprise. He'd clearly been caught off guard when he heard Carlisle thinking _that_.

Carlisle nodded, looking thoroughly unhappy now, and Esme, sitting on the sofa beside him, squeezed his hand. "No choice. After the broadcast we just heard, every able-bodied man in town is going to enlist. I'll have to disappear this week, but you two can probably wait until January to vanish, if you say you'll turn eighteen then. After that, whenever Esme and Rosalie go into town, they'll need to mention that all three of us are gone. We live far enough out in the country that they can just say we registered in the next town over. Does everyone agree?"

Shocking everyone, Rosalie spoke first. "For once, I agree with Carlisle. You three can show yourselves again once other men start coming back from the war."

"…all right then," Edward said.

"Okay," Carlisle agreed, putting his arm around Esme.

Emmett had sighed then, but he'd let Rosalie take his hand. "Fine."

Ever since that conversation, Emmett had been alternating between moping around the house and going to school, where he and Edward pretended that, like most of the other boys in their class, they were wildly excited by the prospect of joining the army. Almost everyone in the senior class who was eighteen had already left for a job or the military, so the only students that remained were the ones counting the days until their birthdays. As Carlisle had suggested, Emmett and Edward were both pretending that they would be eighteen in January, so they were going to stay in school until Christmas, and after that, they would disappear, coming outside only to hunt at night. _Just like real vampires_, Emmett thought sullenly.

Emmett wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do while he was stuck inside. Carlisle and Esme were arranging for the purchase of a house a couple of miles away, so he and Rose would at least have a private place to enjoy each other's company while he was supposed to be hiding, and Emmett knew from experience that Rosalie was very good at keeping him…occupied. But Emmett was sure that knowing what was going on in the world outside their house, or just imagining it, was going to put a damper on his mood. He didn't want Rose to be as depressed and restless as he was going to be, so while he sat in school and pretended to pay attention, he cast around for other things to do too.

Edward had sent Esme to the bookstore three times that week alone to fetch things he could read while he hid in the house, and though Emmett already had a large stack of books that he'd borrowed from Carlisle's library, he wondered if he should get more too. Still, he could only read for so long, and listening to the radio was just going to frustrate him every time the news came on. He and Rose could play board games and cards when they were alone in their new house, though such games always involved removing articles of clothing for lost points or losing hands, so such games never lasted long…maybe Rose was right, and he needed to find a hobby.

"You can help me work on cars," she'd offered.

"I already help you," he'd said with a grin. "I hold them up while you work on them." Then his smile had faded. Looking for something fun to do while he was supposed to be in a kind of exile was the opposite of fun when he considered that members of his human family might soon be dying overseas.

One night, Emmett was sitting outside on the front porch, glaring up at the stars and wishing that Rosalie and Esme didn't seem so relieved that he, Edward and Carlisle all seemed to be resigned to the fact that they couldn't go to war. He could understand that they were worried about the men they loved getting caught…but wouldn't the benefits outweigh the risks in this case? One vampire in one battalion could probably save dozens, if not hundreds of lives—wasn't that worth risking detection?

"Hi, Emmett," Carlisle said quietly, stepping outside and closing the screen door behind him. Inside, Emmett could hear Rosalie and Esme talking about what Rose would pack to take to the new house.

"Hey," Emmett said glumly. "I guess the house sale went through."

"Yes," Carlisle said, sitting down a few feet from Emmett. "You can move in tomorrow."

"How's it been so far, not working?" Emmett asked. He'd been so busy wallowing in self-pity lately that he'd barely noticed that Carlisle had left the hospital, ostensibly for a commission in Europe, almost a week ago.

Carlisle shrugged. "Settling the business of buying the house has been keeping me reasonably well occupied by day. Now I'm going to have to find something else to do, other than reading, watching Esme work, or playing chess with Edward until we both risk serious injury from abject boredom."

Emmett chuckled grimly. "I guess you've had to go through this before, huh? I mean, with other wars."

Carlisle nodded. "I spent some time as a medic during the Revolutionary War and the Civil War, because back then, it was easier to slip into a warzone without having to give any credentials, and it was easy to slip away if necessary. Fewer records were kept too, and if I needed to destroy or falsify documentation, it was less difficult. Of course, I tried to only help out at night, so as few people as possible would see my face, and I never got too close to any battlefields. I always worried what would happen if someone saw a bullet or cannon ball hit me—I wouldn't have dodged, if I could have protected a human by getting hit—because it would have drawn attention if I'd survived such a thing without a scratch. By the time the first World War began, I knew that it was too risky for me to get involved anymore, no matter how much I might want to."

"Why can't we do _something_?" Emmett muttered angrily. "I mean, couldn't we just steal some uniforms, sneak onto a battlefield and help out? Edward could make sure no one saw us, and we'd be careful! Like you said, bullets can't hurt us, and think of how many people we could save!"

"Well, for one thing, I'm fairly certain that both of our wives would kill us for either trying or suggesting such a thing," Carlisle said with a faint smile, but then his expression grew serious. "And even Edward couldn't completely ensure that we wouldn't be noticed. If just one person saw us and told others their story of three invisible soldiers, it could get back to the Volturi. Then every human who saw us, every human who heard about us, and all five of us too, could be killed."

Emmett frowned. "They're that committed to the whole secrecy thing?"

"Vampires add enough bloodshed to wars already, Emmett," Carlisle said quietly. "Our kind have slunk around the edges of probably every battle in human history, feeding on the wounded and the lost. But we've always kept ourselves hidden, and we've always been relatively neutral parties. Imagine how much more frightfully destructive wars would become if our kind chose sides and fought for our respective countries. It would be a bloodbath, and unimaginable numbers of humans and immortals alike would be killed. No, the Volturi don't want us getting involved in wars. Any vampire caught doing so would be destroyed."

Emmett thought about this. Carlisle was right of course, and Emmett wasn't about to go to war if it meant risking getting caught and maybe getting Rose killed as a result…but still, it was hard to think of his human family, old friends and classmates all fighting for their lives on the other side of the world and knowing that he couldn't protect them, even though he was physically capable of doing so.

"I just want to help," Emmett said quietly. "Not just my human family, but anyone I could protect." _Because what's the good of being so strong if I can't use my strength when it really matters?_

"So do I," Carlisle said, his voice filled with the same longing to help people, to fight for what he believed in, that Emmett felt. Knowing that Carlisle and Edward felt the same way he did helped, but still, Emmett wished that he could make a difference in all the fighting that was to come. In a way, having other people who shared his impossible wish, but who accepted that it was impossible, only made the longing he felt even harder to bear.


	180. Common

Hi everyone! Today's first chapter illustrates the kind of problem that I feel Alice would face sometimes with her visions, in that she can't exactly control what possible futures she sees, which could get awkward when she predicts intimate moments between family members. Thanks as always for your reviews, and look for two more chapters after this one tonight! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, as opposed to yours truly, is the author of "Twilight," and THERE ARE ONLY 67 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 1! (Also, I don't like to think about it, but after the movie ends the first time I see it, hopefully on November 18th, I'm going to be extremely…irate/whiny/generally upset that I'll have to wait another whole year to see Part 2…)

_1982_: Common

Alice's POV

It was a typical, rather dull day of high school, and given that she was already fluent in the language, Alice was spending her third period German class scanning the future. None of the potential futures she saw were surprising: there were the usual visions of people at school flirting and fighting…Esme driving to the cleaner's and then driving home…Emmett cutting gym class later because they were running that day, and he hated pretending to be slow (besides, lots of human students skipped running days too, so his absence wouldn't seem unusual)…that afternoon, Jasper would consider leaving before last period started to go hunting, and if he did, Alice saw herself joining him…Rosalie, predictably, wanted to go shopping that weekend, so they might drive to Chicago…and tonight, Carlisle was going to surprise Esme by taking the evening off from work, and after going to a movie, they would come home and—

Alice shook her head and sighed. Of all the different versions of the future she saw at any given moment, scenes like this were easily the most common. Yes, Rosalie and Emmett were sometimes the couple in question, and she didn't mind seeing herself and Jasper alone in their room together after a long day, but she always felt a little guilty, imposing on her family's privacy that way, even if it was involuntary. It wasn't as though she could control what _kinds_ of visions she had—she simply saw a variety of possible futures, and it seemed that the probability of a vampire couple engaging in conjugal relations was always fairly high, regardless of what else the future held.

Alice grinned sheepishly when she heard Edward sigh quietly behind her. The bell rang a few moments later, and as soon as they were out of the classroom and walking down the hall with the rest of the class, Edward was at her side.

"Please don't do that," he said quietly. "I _was_ thinking of joining you and Jasper on your hunting trip later, assuming it actually happens, but now I've lost my appetite."

"You know as well as I do that I can't help but see things like that sometimes," Alice said primly, but then she laughed. "Besides, if I have to suffer, then so do you. And it's not like you haven't seen similar things or heard them thinking about each other about a million times before. Aren't you immune to it by now?"

"Yes, but before I knew you, I didn't have to know about what they do when they're alone in advance of them actually doing anything," Edward said with a long suffering look. "And no, I will never be immune to the horror of having to hear either my parents' thoughts on what they do conjugally, let alone your visions of what they do, or what they plan to do, when they know that all of their children are going to be out of the house."

"Speaking of which, want to go see a baseball game with Jasper and I after we go hunting this afternoon? Rosalie has orchestra practice, and Emmett has to work, but if we get to the park early enough, I see us getting really good seats."

Edward listened to the probable outcome of the game, per Alice's vision, and nodded. "That sounds like fun. Will Jasper be okay for a double header?"

"If we go hunting right before the game, he'll be fine," Alice said confidently. When she stopped to think about it, it was sort of amusing to speak to Edward like this—many of the conversations they had at home were almost nonverbal on her part, in that she could think about a give vision and speak to him in her head, and only Edward would have to speak to respond. But Alice had learned long ago that at school, for Edward's sake, she should try to speak to him out loud, if only so he wouldn't look like he was talking to himself.

"After the game, it should be fine to go home…probably," Alice said, shaking her head as she stopped at her locker to get her math book. A quick look into the future had told her that there was a fair chance that when they got home after the ball game, they'd catch Carlisle and Esme using the kitchen table for something other than its intended purpose.

Edward sighed. "I know it's involuntary, but honestly, the unpredictable nature of your visions is a trial to me sometimes."

"Carlisle hasn't taken time off in months," Alice said with a tolerant smile. "They're always like this when they haven't had much time alone for a while. If I couldn't have Jasper all to myself for twelve hours or so every day, I'd be—"

"Okay, thank you, but I don't need any more disturbing mental pictures today," Edward said, rolling his eyes and heading for his own locker. "See you at lunch."

"You know, it's a sister's job to make her brother's world a more disturbing place," Alice called after him, and all the way to her next class, she couldn't stop grinning, despite the fact that she felt a little sorry for the things that Edward had to hear from his family members on a daily basis. Sure, the visions she had of her parents and siblings could be more than a little embarrassing at times, but in Alice's opinion, the occasional really good vision made her gift more of a blessing than a curse. While standing by her locker, she'd had a vision of what she and Jasper would be doing later that night, and though it was a fairly common vision, it was enjoyable every time to anticipate the moment when she could make a happy vision a reality.


	181. Sporting

Hi again! Today's second chapter is about Carlisle and Esme observing the beginning of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship. Thanks again for your reviews (thank you, thank you, thank you—I really can't say it enough :)), and look for one more chapter after this one tonight! :)

Disclaimer: ONLY 67 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 1! SO EXCITED! :)

_1935_: Sporting

Carlisle's POV

"See, no hands!" Emmett yelled, charging at a roaring grizzly bear. Rosalie, who was watching Emmett carefully, was soon laughing hysterically at the bloody mess that he was making, and Carlisle smiled. The bear, which had clearly been preparing to hibernate, seemed almost as flummoxed by the creature attacking it as it was by the foot of snow that covered the ground—a freak snowstorm early in the fall had clearly made Emmett's prey confused and more than a little irate.

Esme was laughing too. "Emmett has some strange ideas about how to impress a woman."

"True, but I think Rosalie's impressed in spite of herself," Carlisle said, and he and Esme shared a smile. Ever since the night that Rosalie had brought Emmett home, bleeding and barely alive, there had been no mistaking the way she looked at him, no matter what strange or silly thing he did on her behalf.

"Not bad, right?" Emmett said, shaking bits of bear and blood out of his hair.

Rosalie giggled. "You're going to need some new clothes, Emmett," she said, nodding at his shirt, which was shredded almost beyond recognition.

"Huh? Oh," Emmett said, looking down at himself, his expression slightly sheepish now. "Oops."

"Why don't you two head back to the house?" Carlisle suggested. "We'll catch up to you after we've hunted."

Emmett and Rosalie didn't need to be told twice to go off on their own. As they turned and ran toward home, Esme called, "you've got some clean shirts in the laundry room, Emmett!"

"I'm not sure he really cares," Carlisle observed, and Esme chuckled.

"You know, if you'd gone around shirtless more often, our courtship might have progressed a little faster than it did," Esme suggested with an arch look.

"Then it's too bad we didn't discuss this back then," Carlisle said with a grin, "though I'd be happy to at least unbutton my shirt now if you'd like."

"Maybe after we hunt," Esme said. "I'll get distracted if you do it now. Besides, I suppose we should go home sometime tonight and continue our role as acting chaperones to the young couple."

They held hands as they started heading north, deep into the wilds of Saskatchewan, where they'd been living ever since Emmett had slipped and killed a human a few weeks before. At the time, Carlisle had been worried that Emmett had seemed more concerned about upsetting Rosalie than the fact that he'd killed someone. It was starting to look like Emmett was going to have a difficult time learning to abstain, but Esme, who'd slipped a few times herself in her first decade, was more philosophical than worried.

"At least he cares what Rosalie thinks," Esme had pointed out. "When I was a newborn, I'm sure I would have slipped a lot more if I hadn't hated the thought of disappointing you. If Emmett's determined not to inconvenience Rosalie by forcing us to move more frequently than necessary, I think he'll learn to control himself as fast as he can, especially if they start to be more than mere friends in the near future…"

Carlisle smiled at the thought of the unexpected ways that things worked out. He'd saved Rosalie because he'd thought her death was such a waste, and because he'd hoped that Edward could have someone who he could love the way that Carlisle loved Esme. That hadn't happened, and Rosalie had loathed almost everything about her life as a vampire, the only exceptions being the strength that had allowed her to take revenge on her killers, and Esme's friendship…until she found Emmett. Now, Rosalie was happier than Carlisle had ever seen her—she'd actually thanked him for saving Emmett the night he'd changed him, and though she still didn't speak to him unless she absolutely had to, her silences had become far less hostile since Emmett had joined them.

Edward, rather than coming with them to Canada, was living in a house that Carlisle had just bought in Minnesota, and he was preparing to go to college again, though Carlisle suspected that Edward would wait until Emmett was a little older before enrolling in university classes again—he'd had to drop out of his last school after Emmett's slip had occasioned a hasty move. In spite of that however, Carlisle had been pleased to see that when the three of them were together, Edward, Rosalie and Emmett got along far better than Edward and Rosalie alone ever had. Edward seemed much happier with his new brother than he'd ever been with his sister, and though Emmett's arrival had thawed their chilly relationship somewhat, Edward and Rosalie still bickered with an enthusiasm that would put other brothers and sisters to shame. Still, on the whole, every member of the family was much happier than they had been this time last year.

"I'm happy for them," Carlisle said suddenly, squeezing Esme's hand and gazing up at the sky. It was nearly midnight, and above them, countless stars and galaxies could be seen through the thin veil of a pulsing aurora. "I think you're right—we're going to be planning a wedding soon. And thanks to Emmett, Edward and Rosalie can actually stand each other's company now. I just wish that Edward weren't still alone."

"He'll find someone, sometime," Esme said, nudging him playfully with her elbow. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but it took you almost three centuries to find a girl you really liked."

"Touché," Carlisle said with a smile. "You know, when I was young, I played Emmett's "hunting with no hands game" too. I used to go after deer and see how long it took me to bring one down with just my teeth. It wasn't terribly humane, but my first few months, all I could think about was learning to tame my thirst enough to be around people again. Of course, lonely as I was, it took me a while to realize that humans might not be too eager to socialize with someone whose clothes were stained with what was clearly blood. In the end, finding new clothes was my top priority when I went back to London, because my shirt was in as bad a shape as Emmett's was tonight."

Esme chuckled sympathetically. "I'm extremely grateful that I became a vampire when I did, if only because of indoor plumbing. I honestly think I might have died of embarrassment if I hadn't been able to take a bath immediately after my first few hunting trips. I made it my goal not to get any blood on my clothes after the first few times I made a mess of myself, because I was shy enough around you already, and having you see me with blood all over me only made things worse, though you were always very kind about it."

"I always thought you looked rather lovely with a bit of blood on you. You seemed so...wild," Carlisle said with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, that's an unnerving thing to say, even for a vampire."

Esme laughed. "Yes, Freud would have had a field day with that little comment, Dr. Cullen. It's a fun idea though. If you get some blood on you while we're hunting tonight, I can help you…clean up."

Carlisle chuckled wickedly, and after a quick hunt in which they brought down two elk (and for once didn't worry about being a little messy), they helped each other clean up the blood they'd gotten on themselves, and their clothes, and ultimately destroyed most of their clothing in the process. After a while, they lay down and gazed up at the stars. The aurora was red and green now, and it stretched all the way across the sky, from horizon to horizon.

"That," Esme said decidedly, "was fun. So much fun that we can never, ever think about it in Edward's presence."

"Agreed, though I'm afraid he's heard worse over the years," Carlisle said, and they both chuckled.

"Should we go home and supervise Emmett and Rosalie now?" Esme said with a giggle, though she didn't sound like she was in a hurry to leave. "So far, we're proving to be rather ineffectual chaperones."

Carlisle smiled lazily. "Let's stay out here a bit longer. If they're anything like we were when we first met, they're in love already, but they aren't sure that the feeling is mutual yet. It's only sporting to give them some time alone to figure it out."


	182. Monsters

Hi again! Today's last chapter is about Carlisle and Esme at the movies, and how having a perfect memory can be a double-edged sword for vampires. (The two that they see in this chapter are both really bad and really funny :)). Thanks one more time for your reviews, and I'll see you again with three new chapters next Sunday! Have a great week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THE NEW TRAILER FOR "BREAKING DAWN" PART 1 ON TUESDAY! :)

_1967_: Monsters

Esme's POV

Carlisle had a night off for the first time in weeks, so they decided to go to a double feature at the drive-in. It was Friday night, and as was the theater's custom, the double feature consisted of two monster movies, in this case "Gamera" and "Gamera vs. Barugon," Esme had started substitute teaching at the high school earlier that year, so while Carlisle parked the car and adjusted the speaker they'd be listening to the movies through, Esme glanced around to see if any of the cars around them contained teenagers.

"Worried that we might be spotted by some students?" Carlisle asked, grinning and putting his arm around her.

"The thought of high schoolers making out all around us and then recognizing me while _we're_ making out does kill the mood a little, yes," Esme said, but she kissed him briefly anyway. "Luckily, I don't recognize any of the people we're sitting near."

"I see a nurse I know," Carlisle said, nodding at a car a couple of rows ahead of theirs. "Which is interesting, because I recall her taking tonight off to go take care of her sick aunt."

As they watched, the young woman leaned over and began kissing the young man sitting in the driver's seat beside her.

Esme laughed. "That's some sick aunt."

"I'll just pretend I didn't see her here," Carlisle said with a smile. "If I had any sense, I'd take more nights off to go to bad movies and make out with you."

Esme laughed again. "We can do plenty more than make out at home, so let's watch the movie for a while. I didn't see "Gamera" when it came here last year."

Carlisle chuckled as the credits began to roll. "Neither did I. While it was here, we went and saw "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" instead."

"I can't imagine why," Esme said, giggling. "An Oscar winning movie or a movie about a giant turtle? How on earth did we decide which one to see?"

"I think we flipped a coin," Carlisle said, somehow keeping a straight face. "It was the only fair way to choose."

Esme laughed, then settled her head against Carlisle's shoulder while they watched the movie. Much as she enjoyed making fun of bad movies, Esme genuinely liked silly films where people in costumes destroyed model cities, pretended to breathe fire, and fought other actors dressed in similarly outlandish costumes. It was all just so ridiculous that it was strangely reassuring. Esme liked serious dramas too, and it was fun to go to romantic movies with Carlisle, though they'd often start kissing halfway through and miss the end, but she didn't like sad movies, or movies where people were hurt in believable ways.

Seeing people killed by a giant turtle was fine somehow, because it was so obviously pretend, a fiction invented to entertain. But seeing people die in realistic ways in movies always depressed Esme—of course the people on the screen weren't really getting hurt, but it was too easy to imagine how people died in real wars after seeing a war movie, and any movie where a woman was hurt by her husband just brought back unpleasant memories of her own human life. If she was being honest, Esme hadn't really liked "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" for that very reason; she and Carlisle never fought like that (or at all really), and she couldn't imagine ever fighting with Charles when he'd been an alcohol-fueled rage...

_Now that I think of it_, Esme realized,_ there are all sorts of movies that I don't really like. I'll see films if they get good reviews or if they're based on novels or plays I've read, but I tend to enjoy 'bad' movies more than supposedly good ones._

"Esme?" Carlisle said curiously. "You look surprised by something."

Esme shook her head. "I just realized that this might be my favorite type of movie. Silly movies that bear very little resemblance to real life and real difficulties that people face, I mean."

Carlisle nodded. "There are a lot of problems in this world, so I must admit that it is comforting to think that at least I don't have to worry about giant turtle attacks."

Esme laughed. "I'm serious! I was just thinking about what kinds of movies I like, and what kinds I don't like. I realized that the more realistic a dramatic movie is, the less likely it is that I'll enjoy it, because it's so easy to picture similar bad things happening in real life. It's hard enough to read about something terrible in a book or newspaper and never forget it, but having an image of a scene from a movie imprinted in your mind forever—of, say, someone dying in a war—is even worse. It just makes it easier for me to imagine what it must be like in Vietnam right now. And anyway, giant monsters like the ones in these movies just aren't all that scary when you think about it. They're always fairly easy to get rid of, and to me, they're never as scary as people who hurt other people. I much prefer things like Gamera, which are clearly just fantasy, to stories about human monsters—those do scare me."

Carlisle frowned. "I know what you mean. I suppose I prefer movies like this too, or comedies, to most dramas, and I've never liked war movies, because they always remind me of the real aftermath of war. And vampire movies are never much fun, because they always remind me of the kind of monsters that we work so hard not to be. Serious movies about difficult subjects might be better suited to humans, simply because they don't have to remember them, frame for frame, with perfect clarity for the rest of their lives."

"Exactly," Esme said. "I think I'd like dramatic movies much more if I could ever forget the parts that are hard to watch."

"At the moment, this particular movie is a bit hard to watch," Carlisle said, narrowing his eyes, "if only because _that_ does not look like Osaka Castle."

Esme laughed. "There are so many other things you could be criticizing right now! The fact that Gamera's back from outer space, the bad job that was done dubbing this in English, the fact that a huge lizard that's weakened by water for some reason was just born from what looked like a giant gemstone—but instead, you don't like the little model castle that Gamera and Barugon are fighting next to?"

"You're right about all of those things, but I just think that it would be easy to get a little model castle to look like the real thing," Carlisle said with a shrug. Then he smiled and pulled her closer. "Is this that inevitable point in a bad movie when we stop paying attention and start kissing?"

"I hope so," Esme murmured, and when Carlisle kissed her, she knew she could forget all about monsters, real and imaginary, at least for a while.


	183. Variety

Hi everyone! Today's first chapter is a little look into how I think Jasper might have grown closer to the family following the events of "Breaking Dawn," thanks in large part to Nessie bringing everyone closer together. Thank you so much as always for your reviews, and look for two more chapters after this one tonight! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and OHMYGOSH, THE NEW TRAILER FOR "BREAKING DAWN" PART 1 IS SO PRETTY! :)

_2007_: Variety

Jasper's POV

It was a chilly spring day, and even though it was already the middle of the morning, fog still lingered in the valley between the front yard and the river. Jasper was sitting at his desk in the room he shared with Alice, working at his laptop on a new set of fake I.D.s for the family—Bella was going to handle all dealings with J. Jenks now, but Jasper wanted to maintain his own skills at forgery, just in case a speedy departure was ever required. On the floor beside him, Nessie was focused on the sketchbook that Esme had given her the day before, her forehead creased in concentration.

"What are you drawing?"

"Wolves," Nessie said, frowning at her drawing and scribbling at it with a colored pencil. Then she paused, scribbled a bit more, and then smiled down at her work. "Okay, all done."

"Can I see?" Jasper asked, but Nessie was already picking up the sketchbook to show him. The drawing was surprisingly good—it looked like a much older child's work, and of course Nessie wasn't even a year old, which made it all the more impressive. Despite the occasional clumsy pencil stroke, it was clear who each wolf was.

"That one's Jake," Nessie explained, sounding slightly worried that it might not be apparent as she pointed to the biggest wolf, the one at the center of the page. "And there's Seth, and Leah, and Quil, and Embry."

"Very nice," Jasper said sincerely, and Nessie smiled proudly.

"Thank you," she said. Then she glanced at Jasper's computer screen. "Those are pretty too, and they look real. Are you making them just for fun?"

"For practice, just in case I ever need to make some suddenly," Jasper explained. "I think I'm finished for today though. Aunt Alice is gone shopping, so I think I'll just read until she gets home."

"Is your new book good?" Nessie asked, hopping up onto his lap.

"It's interesting, though I guess I've read a lot of similar books before," Jasper said with a shrug. "It's about a philosopher named Immanuel Kant, and it talks about how his ideas changed how people thought about their perceptions of the world."

"What's the categorical imperative?" Nessie asked, pointing to the phrase on the page that Jasper had turned to.

"That's the main idea he's famous for," Jasper said. "It's the idea that we should try to judge what we do by whether we would want everyone to act that way or not. Kant believed that morality wasn't just about what you did—to him, your motives mattered almost more than your actions. Kant believed that it was important to distinguish the natural world as people see it from the natural world as it really is, and he thought that if you intended to do something good, whether you succeeded or not wasn't as important as your initial motive to do good."

Jasper worried for a moment that he'd confused her, but then Nessie nodded thoughtfully.

"Like us," she said. "I mean, we try to be good and not hurt people, because we'd like other people to live that way too."

"Yes," Jasper said quietly. "But our good motives don't always result in the good actions we want."

"I like this part," Nessie said, pointing to a sentence, and Jasper nodded.

""Two things fill the mind with ever-increasing wonder and awe,"" he read. ""The starry heavens above me and the moral law within me." I like that too."

"Philosophy seems pretty interesting," Nessie said, looking at the spines of some of Jasper's other books.

"It is," Jasper agreed. "It's all about understanding life, the world, and other people better, not to mention our perceptions of those things. You know, you can borrow a book from me any time, Nessie. Grandpa Carlisle trusts you with his library, so I trust you with mine too."

Nessie smiled. "Thanks, Uncle Jasper."

"Nessie, time for lunch!" Bella called from downstairs, and Nessie hopped off Jasper's lap and carefully closed her sketchbook.

"What's for lunch?" Jasper wondered.

"A smoothie," Nessie explained. "Mama's trying to find a way for me to take food over to Grandpa Charlie's in a way that won't make him suspicious. If I take blood blended with ice in a cup, he'll think it's just a regular smoothie…as long as he doesn't ask for a taste."

"That might be a little awkward," Jasper said with a chuckle, and he smiled as Nessie called, "see you later!" and ran out of the room.

"Want to come try a smoothie?" Esme asked, poking her head into the room. "It's deer blood, not human."

"Have you tried one yet?" Jasper wondered, bemused.

Esme shrugged and raised her eyebrows. "I had a sip of Nessie's lunch just now—Bella froze some blood in an ice cube tray last night so she wouldn't have to use regular ice cubes—and it's very…interesting. It's not bad exactly, but the sensation of trying to drink almost frozen blood is rather strange."

"I'm sure it is," Jasper said with a chuckle. "Want to see our new emergency fake I.D.s?"

Esme leaned over and gazed at the images on the screen. "They look amazing, Jasper," she said, and then she raised her eyebrows at the names he'd chosen. "Edward and Bella are Will and Liz Darcy? Nice touch."

"Well, here's hoping we never need them," Jasper said with a shrug. "But if we do, they'll be ready. By the way, Nessie seems to be enjoying the sketchbook you gave her—she just showed me a drawing of the wolves that puts my own artistic efforts to shame."

"You're really having fun, aren't you?" Esme said with a grin. "Being an uncle, I mean."

Jasper smiled and shrugged again. "I suppose I am. We've all changed a lot over the past few months though—we're all a lot happier than we were before Nessie came along. It's such a dramatic shift in mood that I think everyone can sort of feel it, even without my talent."

"You're right," Esme said, grinning as the sound of Nessie's running feet approached. "So, how was the smoothie, honey?"

"Cold," Nessie said, making a face. "Mama's going to heat it up on the stove, so I guess it's going to be soup instead. Want to come outside with us while we wait? Uncle Emmett wants to try some blood soup too, but first he says we should have a race. He says beating everyone will make him thirstier."

"He said that, huh?" Jasper said, picking Nessie up and swinging her onto his shoulders. "Come on then, we'd better hurry up and beat him instead!"

Nessie laughed as he ran and Jasper grinned. Yes, he was certainly having fun being an uncle. Thanks in part to Nessie (but mostly thanks to Alice, who would always be the center of his universe), his life, which had been one of monotonous violence for so long, had completely changed. Jasper was more grateful than he could say that his once dull and lonely existence was now one of love and variety.


	184. Chaperones

Hi again! Today's second chapter takes place between "Twilight" and "New Moon," and it deals with the different reactions that Charlie and Renée might have had toward Edward during that time, and how Carlisle and Esme might have helped to smooth things over. See you in a bit with one more chapter! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and THERE ARE ONLY 60 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 1! SO EXCITED! :)

_2005_: Chaperones

Bella's POV

Summer vacation had finally begun, and though the weather in Forks didn't change much, getting to be with Edward nearly all day, every day, was enough to make me cheerful in spite of the almost constant rain. Charlie, of course, was less than thrilled by the fact that if Edward wasn't at our house, I was over at the Cullens' place, but Carlisle and Esme were good about reassuring my dad, who'd abruptly decided that now that I had a boyfriend, I required far more supervision than I had upon first moving in with him. Of course, he couldn't watch us while he was at work, but he _could_ call my cell phone to check in every few hours, or worse, he could call one of Edward's parents to make sure I was where I'd told him I'd be.

"Oh, hi Charlie," Esme said, picking up the kitchen phone one afternoon while Edward and I were over at the Cullens'. We were in the kitchen—Esme, who insisted that she loved having the chance to cook for someone, was making me lunch—and as soon as I heard the name "Charlie," I sighed.

"This is getting ridiculous," I muttered, but Edward merely shrugged. It bothered me that he seemed to think that Charlie was perfectly justified in wanting to check up on me so often—in Edward's opinion, his presence alone was a legitimate reason for Charlie to worry about my safety, and if Esme hadn't always been so happy to see me, I worried that he never would have brought me over to his house for fear of an accidental vampire attack occurring. Of course, Esme wasn't the person he was worried about; now that I'd known Edward for a while, I'd come to notice the subtle way his whole body tensed whenever Jasper and I were in the same room. I saw Alice often enough, but since vacation had started, I'd hardly seen Jasper at all, and Rosalie and Emmett were away traveling. Edward insisted that these things had nothing to do with me, but I knew better; Carlisle and Esme were happy to have me in their house, but not all of Edward's siblings were especially happy or comfortable having me around, to say nothing of having to endure the scent of my blood.

"Yup, they're right here," Esme said, smiling at us. I mouthed the word "sorry" at her, and Esme winked at me. "We're just having some lunch. Don't worry, I think she'll be home pretty early tonight—they're going to a matinee. I've got to drop some things off at a gallery in Port Angeles this afternoon, so I was going to give them a ride to the movie theater—Edward's trying to save gas money. So how are you?"

While Esme chatted with Charlie, I smiled at how naturally she'd lied. Both Carlisle and Esme had a habit of telling my dad that they were going to drive me and Edward somewhere, when in reality they had no intention of doing so, and in the end, Edward and I would go off by ourselves as usual. And of course, they knew that Edward spent every night in my room, though they never mentioned it directly. At first, the contrast had annoyed me—why couldn't Charlie trust me the way that Carlisle and Esme trusted Edward? Of course, as soon as I'd really thought about that, it was obvious: Edward was over a hundred years old, and his parents had known him for decades to be someone they could count on not to get into trouble. After almost eighteen years, Charlie and I barely knew each other by comparison—now that I had a boyfriend, maybe he was worried I would turn into a juvenile delinquent or something. Even I could admit that the way I'd run off to Phoenix certainly made Edward _look_ like a bad influence.

"Besides," Edward had told me once, "it isn't you he doesn't trust. It's me."

I hadn't had anything to say to that—even without being able to read Charlie's mind, I'd known that Edward was right.

"Okay, talk to you later, Charlie," Esme said cheerfully before hanging up.

"I'm sorry about that Esme," I said. "He just…worries."

"He's your father, Bella," Esme said, smiling sympathetically. "Of course he worries. And in a few months, you're going to be eighteen. You'll be an adult, getting ready to move out of his house. When that happens, he's going to worry even more, because he won't be able to justify checking up on you so often when you're on your own."

The thought of turning eighteen always made me feel a little edgy these days, but thinking about Charlie in connection with becoming a legal adult made me stop and think. When I turned eighteen, Charlie wasn't going to be able to dictate what time I had to be home, or how late Edward could stay at our house—well, as long as I lived in Charlie's house, he technically could, but maybe the fact that his days of being able to supervise me and who I dated were running out was making Charlie extra nervous. A few months from now, I would be moving away to...somewhere; wherever Edward and I could attend college together, maybe? Regardless of where we went though, Charlie could disapprove of Edward all he wanted then, but he wouldn't be able to stop me from seeing him.

Anyway, whenever I got impatient with Charlie, I tried to remind myself that Edward was my first real 'boyfriend,' as much as anyone over a century old could be called a 'boy.' Any parent would be a little paranoid, especially after the way I'd broken my leg under slightly mysterious circumstances a few weeks before. Well, almost every parent—Renée was so happy for me that she called every other night to talk. The evening after Charlie had called Esme to check on me was no exception, which was how I found myself talking to Renée while Edward (who, as far as Charlie knew, had gone home an hour ago) sat beside me.

"So, how's it going in Forks?" Renée said, trying to sound casual.

"Fine," I said glancing at Edward, who was sitting on my bed, smiling at me. "I mean, really well, honestly."

Renée laughed. "And how's Edward?"

"He's…" _in my room, sitting next to me right now._ "Good."

"_Good_, wow, that's very descriptive," Renée said, and I could almost hear her rolling her eyes over the phone. "Give me some details, honey! What did you two do today?"

"We just…hung out," I said awkwardly. Renée and I had never engaged in much girl talk back when I'd lived with her in Phoenix, so learning to talk about boyfriend stuff over the phone was a little tricky for me, never mind that I could never mention the whole vampire element of the equation. "I mean, Esme made us lunch, and then she took us to a movie in Port Angeles so we could both save the gas money."

"Oh, that was sweet of her," Renée said, and though I knew she meant it, I detected the faintest hint of jealousy in her voice—my mom, understandably, wanted the chance to drive me and my first 'boyfriend' to the movies. "I'd love to meet her sometime, and Edward's other brothers and sisters too. Carlisle showed me some pictures while we were in Phoenix, but sometime this year, I'm going to have to make a trip up to see you so I can meet everyone. Maybe I'll come at Christmas, if I can get a good deal on a flight…"

I tried not to shudder at the thought of the Cullens having to pretend to be human in my mother's bubbly presence. "Yeah, that would be great. So, how's Phil?"

As I'd expected, my mom promptly launched into a long account of exactly how well Phil was doing, what her daily life in Jacksonville was like, and just because she couldn't help herself, she pointed out that there were "plenty of cute boys in Florida too." I rolled my eyes at that little comment, and Edward laughed silently beside me.

"How's Charlie?" Renée asked suddenly. "Is he starting to relax a little?"

"He's...yeah, he's getting better," I said. "I mean, he calls to check on me when he's at work, but he doesn't mind me going places with Edward as long as Carlisle or Esme are around to sort of chaperone." (I left out the part about Carlisle and Esme being chaperones in name only.)

Renée sighed. "And here I always thought that I'd be the overprotective one when you started dating. Of course, you and Charlie have always been a bit more serious than me, and now that you're living with him, I suppose it's easier for him to imagine all of the trouble that teenagers can get into together."

"Thanks so much for that vote of confidence," I said drily, and Renée laughed.

"Oh, sweetie, I know that you're responsible, with or without adult supervision. Just give Charlie time to get used to the idea of you having a boyfriend, and he'll calm down. In the bigger scheme of things, nothing is as dramatic as it seems right now. A year from now, who knows where you're going to be living, or where you'll be getting ready to go to college, or if you and Edward will still be together."

"Yeah," I said, looking at Edward, who regarded me thoughtfully. "Who knows?" But I did know. Somehow, we would be together, regardless of the impasse we'd been at ever since our conversation at prom. I didn't know where I'd be a year from now, but I had to believe that when chaperones and worried parents were a thing of the past, I would still be with Edward…somehow.


	185. Inspiration

Hi again! Today's last chapter is a look at Esme's efforts to design a house that's big enough for her growing family. Thanks once again for your reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday with two new chapters! (Sorry, but I'm going to be moving soon, so I'll be going back to doing just one or two chapters per week, at least until "Breaking Dawn" Part 1 comes out; right around then, I'm hoping to have one chapter per day ready, like I've done for the last two movies :)). Hope you have a great week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't wait to find out my new address so I can preorder volume 2 of the "Twilight" Graphic Novel—so awesome! :)

_1950_: Inspiration

Esme's POV

Pen poised over a large sheet of drawing paper, Esme paused and considered her work so far. Ever since Alice and Jasper had arrived, Esme had been eager to design a new house that would be a better fit for seven vampires. It needed to be a comfortable family home, not quite a mansion, but a large house that was strong enough to handle immortal strength. At the same time though, she wanted the house to be something modern, something that would sell when it came time to move again. Since the war had ended, there had been a lot of exciting new trends in architecture, and after considering her sketch for a few moments, Esme looked up to examine the pictures she'd torn out of magazines and taped to the wall above her desk for inspiration.

It was remarkable to see the houses that were being designed and built these days: modern architecture fascinated Esme, because it challenged ideas about what a house was "supposed" to look like. She especially liked the trend of having walls of windows in some houses, particularly those that boasted wonderful views. Doing something like that would be possible if they bought land far out in the country, or at the edge of a forest. Esme smiled at the thought of being able to see prey from her bedroom window; then it would be an easy matter to simply open the window, jump out, and hunt. The local wildlife population would quickly learn to avoid the house, of course, as animals always did once the scent of vampire really began to permeate any property, but for a little while at least, a wall of windows would be a fun tool for surprising hapless game.

"How's it coming?" Carlisle asked. He was laying on their bed, reading a medical journal, and Esme was trying not to look at him. Every time she did, she'd get distracted and contemplate giving up her drawing in favor of joining him on the bed for some less productive activities than home design or the study of new trends in medicine.

"I'm definitely planning to have a lot of windows," Esme said thoughtfully, holding up her sketch so he could see it and pointing to what would be the east and west walls. "I think we're going to have a flat roof too—it's a rather silly design choice for any place where it snows, because even a really good roof will almost certainly start to leak eventually, but flat roofs are in vogue now, and as long as we clear the snow off periodically during the winter, it shouldn't be a problem as long as we live there."

"So who's on which floor?" Carlisle asked.

"Right now, I have Rosalie and Emmett on the third floor. They'll have a nice balcony and lots of space, plus privacy, relatively speaking. I'm thinking of putting a studio up there for me too, though of course I'll probably only use it while they're at school, again, for privacy's sake."

Carlisle smiled. "More for the sake of our not having to hear their private moments than for their actually privacy, you mean."

"Exactly," Esme said with a smile. "Now, Alice and Jasper are on the second floor, and so is Edward—they'll be separated by a hallway, plus a big closet for Alice—you know, they came here with one suitcase between them, but now Alice has filled up two closets already—and your study. Our bedroom's going to be on the ground floor, at the back of the house. The kitchen will be here, living room here, and the entryway here, on the north side, so even on sunny days, we can answer the door if absolutely necessary, though I can't imagine we're going to have many visitors."

"Good idea," Carlisle said. "We've had people knock at our door before, either lost on back roads or stranded when their cars have broken down, and it's always rather depressing to pretend we aren't at home when someone rings the bell on a sunny day."

"With this many windows though, we'll want to be a long way from civilization so we won't have many humans happening by," Esme said with a frown. "Or, we're going to need to build this somewhere cloudy. Canada maybe, or out in Washington or Oregon. Then we won't have to worry about avoiding the windows when the weather's nice…or I could move the windows to the north side…"

"Whatever you decide, I know it'll be perfect," Carlisle said confidently, and Esme smiled. For a long time, Carlisle had had more confidence in her artistic abilities than she had. He was the one who'd first noticed her love of drawing, and who had finally convinced her to take art, then architecture classes. She'd finally agreed to design a house for them to live in when he'd said,

"Esme, you know what our family needs better than anyone else ever could. I know that you can design a better house than anything we could ever buy."

So, Esme had designed her first house. She'd designed many more since then, to say nothing of the houses she'd redesigned and rebuilt herself. And no matter how much time passed, or how many new and interesting trends came and went in the world of architecture, it was always the thought of her family, but of Carlisle especially, that kept Esme excited about designing new homes, because no matter how difficult or repetitive work on a house became, Esme could always encourage herself by imagining how much she and Carlisle would enjoy themselves in a new house once it was finished.

With a grin, Esme stood up and moved to join Carlisle on their bed. He smiled and set the medical journal aside when he saw her coming.

"Time for a break?" he asked.

"Something like that," Esme said, moving close to him. "Before I finish this preliminary design, I think I'm going to need to be inspired, and you know, you've always been my best source of inspiration…"


	186. Toys

Hi everyone! Hope you've had a great weekend: I'm going to be moving next Saturday, and this past week, I had two job interviews, so I'm a bit exhausted at the moment. However, I have three fun chapters ready for tonight, and I'm hoping that I'll still be able to update as usual next Sunday, given that I'm moving (temporarily) to a rural area where friends have told me that you can't always count on the wireless. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it though. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll (hopefully) see you again next Sunday with more updates! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and THERE ARE ONLY 53 DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 1! I'M GETTING MORE AND MORE EXCITED EVERY WEEK! :)

_2007_: Toys

Jacob's POV

It was the day after Valentine's Day, and Nessie was examining the stuffed bear that Charlie had given her the day before. Charlie, I was starting to realize, was going to use pretty much any holiday as an excuse to give Nessie presents, and though according to Bella and Edward, Nessie had put on a good show of seeming pleased with her gift the day before, as soon as they were in the car and away from Charlie, she'd begun examining the bear, obviously not sure what to make of it. That made sense, as soon as I thought about it: to other little kids, a teddy bear is just a teddy bear, but to Nessie, a teddy bear was a bear, and bears were _food_. Charlie couldn't have known it, but giving her a stuffed bear was the equivalent of giving your average little kid a stuffed cheeseburger.

"Why a bear, exactly?" she said. We were sitting on the living room floor by the windows facing the river, examining the bear together.

"I guess it has to do with Teddy Roosevelt," I said, poking the tip of the bear's pink, heart-shaped nose. When I did, it lit up for a few seconds, and some mechanism inside the bear played a little song. "You might want to ask someone other than me though, since I wasn't actually _alive_ when he was president."

"Dad?" Nessie said, looking at Edward—he and Bella were sitting together a few feet away, leaning against the side of the couch.

"The story is that Teddy Roosevelt went bear hunting, but he couldn't find any bears. His attendants eventually caught a bear for him to shoot, but he thought that it would be unsporting to kill an injured animal," Edward said. "However, he ordered the bear killed to put it out of its misery. There's a famous political cartoon about it, and at first, the bear looked old, but as it was reprinted over and over, the bear in the cartoon was depicted as being smaller and cuter as time went on. Eventually, someone got the idea to make toy bears named Teddy."

"Did you ever have a teddy bear?" Nessie asked, looking at both of her parents.

"I did, but it was sort of skinny and creepy looking, in retrospect," Edward said. "It looked more like a real bear than most teddy bears do now."

"I had a teddy bear when I was younger," Bella said with a frown. "Or wait, maybe it was a bunny. I can't really remember what kind of animal it started out as, because I guess I carried it around with me constantly from the age of two until I was about four. After two years of constant little kid attention, it was sort of just a grayish lump of fabric and fuzz with little plastic eyes attached. I can barely remember it, but I guess my mom has it in a box somewhere in Florida…"

"I'm pretty sure that Rachel stole my teddy bear when I was six or so," I said when Nessie looked at me questioningly. "I was really mad, but I pretended that I didn't care, and after that, I mostly just played with toy cars."

"Grandma!" Nessie called, and Esme emerged from the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel. I wasn't sure what was for lunch, but it smelled delicious, which made me think I should maybe call Seth and have him come over…but then I decided that I was hungry enough that I might not really be in a food sharing mood today.

"Teddy bears were after my time," Esme said, guessing what Nessie wanted to ask her. She smiled down at Charlie's present. "That one's certainly cute though."

"It's very…pink," Nessie said noncommittally, and everyone laughed.

"Well, it is!" she said with a smile. "Whoever heard of a pink bear? It's weird."

"It's supposed to be girly," I explained.

"But why is pink specifically girly?" she asked.

"Um…" I said, looking to Edward and Bella for help.

"Don't look at me," Bella said with a shrug. "I've never been a huge fan of pink, but maybe that's just because of the whole idea that girls are supposed to like pink and boys are supposed to like blue. I've always liked blue better."

"At the beginning of the last century, the opposite was actually true," Edward said thoughtfully. "Boys were dressed in pink, because it's close to red, and that was supposed to be a decisive, manly color, while girls were dressed in blue, because that was seen as gentler."

"Who on earth decides these things?" Nessie demanded, and I just shrugged—Nessie has a way of bringing up ideas that I've never really thought about before, which can make it hard to give her a decent answer.

"Your lunch is ready, Jake," Esme said, saving me from having to try and form a coherent answer to Nessie's question. When I got to the kitchen, there was already a plate of food waiting for me. Carlisle was sitting on the other side of the table, doing some kind of paperwork.

"Hi," I said, shoveling the food—lasagna—into my mouth.

"I hear you're talking about toys in there," Carlisle said, not looking up from whatever form he was filling out.

I tried not to shudder at the idea of what toys in the seventeenth century must have been like. "I'm guessing you didn't have a teddy bear when you were a kid."

Carlisle chuckled. "My only toy was a bible, and I was lucky to have that. Some kids played with tops, I suppose, but my father considered most forms of conventional frivolity to be wicked."

"Yikes," I said, shaking my head. "The only toys Billy ever really discouraged when I was a kid were those video games where you chop people's heads off, and Quil was the only person with Nintendo at his house anyway."

Carlisle laughed. "Times have certainly changed. It makes me wonder what kids are going to be playing with a hundred years from now."

I smiled at the sudden thought of a teddy bear with a jet pack. "Yeah," I said, "I'm looking forward to seeing that."


	187. Sunshine

Hi again! Today's second chapter takes place on Isle Esme; after Nessie's birth, I feel like the island might become (at least temporarily) a Cullen family vacation destination instead of a place for lovers to be alone together. Thanks once again for your wonderful reviews, and look for one more chapter after this one! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there's less than a month left before the release of "Twilight" the Graphic Novel, Volume 2. Hooray! :)

_2007_: Sunshine

Carlisle's POV

It was a sunny morning, and everyone was at the beach in front of the house on the island. Carlisle smiled at the sight of everyone enjoying the sunshine and watching Nessie (the only one that the local dolphin population wasn't afraid of) frolicking in the water. This was the first trip that everyone had taken to the island together since Bella and Nessie had joined the family, and it was only the third time that all of the Cullens had traveled to the island together; generally, it worked better to have individual couples occupy the island in turns, but everyone had wanted to be a part of Nessie's first visit to the island, so here they all were. Jacob, of course, had been invited as well, but Carlisle had understood when he'd declined the invitation.

"No offense, doc," he'd said, "but being trapped on a remote island with a bunch of married vampires who I won't be able to escape seeing or hearing, you know, being romantic, is not really my idea of a good time."

"Understood," Carlisle had said; of course, he had known that it was going to be a little awkward for all of them, being on the island as a family when it was usually just a place that spouses visited alone. (Edward had only come with the family once before, because after the first time, he'd decided that being able to relax safely in a sunny climate wasn't worth hearing the turns his siblings' and parents' thoughts took when they were on the island). But everyone had wanted to watch Nessie discover every corner of the island, so by day, it was agreed that everyone would stay on the beach and play with their daughter, niece, and granddaughter together. By night, while Nessie slept, a set of boundaries had been established: Edward and Bella would stay in the house in the white room, while Nessie would take the blue room. Carlisle and Esme spent their evenings in a cave on the north side of the island, while Emmett and Rosalie stuck to similar accommodations on the south end of the island, and Alice and Jasper stayed on the east side.

"You know, I'm pleasantly surprised that this is actually working," Carlisle said, grinning at Esme, who was watching Nessie do cannonballs after jumping off a large rock. Everyone was sitting in chairs, lying in the sand, or otherwise relaxing on the beach, and though they all had books or magazines to read, all reading material had been ignored for the bulk of the trip, because watching Nessie was much more entertaining. "Our arrangements concerning, privacy, I mean."

Esme smiled at him. "Well, you did buy me a rather large island," she pointed out, sliding off her chair and onto his lap. "I'm not surprised that, since we arranged everything in advance, we've managed to not embarrass each other too badly so far."

Carlisle kissed her gently. "If you don't go back to your chair in a minute, we're going to embarrass the kids anyway, despite our best laid plans."

"Hey," Emmett complained—Rosalie was in the process of burying him in the sand, and everything but his neck was covered, which made him a captive audience to anything that happened on the beach. "If you're going to do that, go to your side of the island, all right?"

"All right, all right," Esme said, returning to her own chair and smiling innocently. "See, I'm behaving myself."

"We can disappear while Nessie has her lunch," Carlisle whispered, and Esme grinned at him. Their cave was unfurnished, save for the ridiculously large bed that Esme had had shipped to the island and which she'd assembled on their first night. Afterwards, they'd broken the legs of said bed almost immediately, but the frame was still intact, so it was acting as a sort of futon now. Carlisle smiled at the thought of going back there later, no longer even pretending to read the novel he'd brought with him as he took Esme's hand and kissed her fingertips, ignoring Emmett when he groaned in exasperation.

"Seriously, save that for your cave," he warned. "Otherwise, Rose and I will get you back later. You know I'm not kidding."

"Jasper and I were actually planning to disappear during lunch," Alice said cheerfully from her place in the hammock she was sharing with Jasper. "You two can disappear later, while Nessie takes a nap after playing with the dolphins."

"Has she named them all yet?" Jasper wondered. "Or are there still a few nameless ones left?"

"No, I think she's got names for them all now," Alice said with a grin. "Squeaky was the last one.'

"I still don't get how she can tell them all apart," Emmett said. "They all look pretty much the same to me."

"Maybe if you could get a closer look, you'd notice subtle differences," Rosalie said with a shrug. "As it is, if we get within a hundred yards of them, they panic. I'm still a little surprised that they can even handle Nessie swimming near them."

"I'm even more surprised that all of your lecherous thoughts haven't driven me to distraction yet," Edward said. He and Bella were standing hand in hand a few yards away, knee deep in the water of the cove. Though Nessie could swim perfectly, he and Bella insisted on keeping a watchful eye on her, whether she was playing in water that was ten feet or teen inches deep. "Thank you, by the way, for keeping your various thoughts about your various private corners of the island down to a dull roar."

Emmett chuckled wickedly. "You really shouldn't have said anything about that, Edward. Now I'm not going to be able to stop thinking about stuff you'd rather not hear about."

Edward sighed, and Bella chuckled and followed him as he dove underwater in a vain attempt to escape whatever Emmett was thinking. A few seconds later, they were swimming beside Nessie, all of them splashing each other and laughing.

"This was a wonderful idea, Alice," Esme said with a smile.

Alice shrugged serenely. "I knew we'd all have fun, though everything went blank for a second when you invited Jacob, Carlisle."

"I know he would have enjoyed this, but it might have worried him to be so far away from his pack, even for a few days," Carlisle said with a shrug. "Still, someday…"

Someday, Carlisle was certain, Jacob would want to travel, if only to escape the fact that everyone he knew and loved was aging—even his pack mates, who were as ageless as he was for the time being—would someday grow old and die. When he was the only one left, Carlisle had little doubt that Jacob would travel with them, either as Nessie's spouse or as her perpetual guardian, and regardless of what Nessie chose, Carlisle liked to think that Jacob would be happy to have something like a family once his own was gone. For now though, Carlisle got the feeling that Jacob didn't want to spend too much time away from his human friends and family, even if that meant being away from Nessie sometimes.

"Hey, I think it would be fun if they all came next time," Emmett said. "You always see humans having fun playing fetch with their dogs on beaches."

"Emmett," Esme said, giving him a warning look while Rosalie laughed. "Be nice."

"Come on, he's thousands of miles away," Emmett said, grinning. "I'm not making dog jokes to his face anymore at least—I'm improving, see?"

Esme chuckled in spite of herself. "I suppose you are."

"We have an hour until the time when Nessie usually eats lunch," Carlisle murmured. "Want to disappear for a bit?"

Esme smiled at him, the way she always did when they were alone on the island together. "We'll be right back," she called to the others, and then Carlisle took her hand as they raced back to their cave together, relishing the closeness of each other and the warm sunshine.


	188. Apology

Hi again! Today's last chapter is a reader request: someone wanted to read about Edward finally telling Esme that he'd killed her former husband, so here it is! Thanks one more time for your reviews (I feel like I can never thank you guys enough for actually reading what I write), and I'll hopefully see you again next Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm trying to decide what to have for a snack when I finish typing this. Pudding maybe? There's one more taiyaki thing in the freezer though. Tomorrow I'm going to make cookies…hmm…:)

_1931_: Apology

Edward's POV

I waited until I'd been home for several days before finally telling Esme. It was the first time that the two of us had been alone—Carlisle hadn't dared to go to work before for fear of me leaving again while he was gone; though he denied that that was the reason for his constant presence in the house, his thoughts made it clear that he and Esme were both almost giddy with relief to have me back. When Carlisle finally left for work one morning, I said goodbye to him knowing that he planned to call the house every hour or so to speak to Esme, to make sure that I was still there.

We were sitting on the living room sofa together, watching the snow fall outside in silence, when I finally got up the nerve to speak.

"Esme," I said quietly. "I've been…wanting to tell you for a long time now that…when I first left…Charles Evenson—"

"Stop," Esme said quietly, and to my surprise, there was no anger in her voice, only a trace of sadness. "I know what you're going to say."

I was shocked to find that she did—though she didn't know the exact details, she was certain that I'd killed the man who had once been her husband.

"I guessed a long time ago, Edward," she said gently, and to my amazement, she actually took my hand. I almost drew away—I deserved to be screamed at, to be denounced for going against her wishes to satisfy my own immature notions of justice and revenge. But instead, here she was comforting me.

"I can't read your mind," Esme said quietly. "But you probably feel guilty about it now. At the time though, when you left, all you could think about was ridding the world of people like him. As soon as I thought about it, I realized that you wouldn't stop at just destroying people who were similar to him in terms of their thoughts and actions. You would find him, and you would make sure that no one else ever had to suffer at his hand the way I did."

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I know I shouldn't have—"

"Edward, I don't know what _should_ have been done about him," Esme said, touching the side of my face reassuringly. "Carlisle went and spoke to him once—yes, he finally told me about that while you were gone—and apparently he put the fear of God in Charles. I called the police back in Ohio too, while you were away, claiming to be a relative, and I told them that my cousin Esme had vanished under mysterious circumstances, and wasn't it possible that her husband, Charles Evenson, had something to do with his wife's disappearance? But obviously, he never went to jail for what he did to me, and with no body, they couldn't charge him with my murder, I suppose. So I can't tell you with complete certainty that we handled Charles the right way. I don't know if he ever hurt anyone else after me, and what you did…well, I don't agree with it, but I'm much more relieved than angry, Edward. I never would have asked you to do such a thing for me, but much as it pains me to say it, I can't help but think that the world is a better place without him in it."

"Oh," I said, exhaling an unnecessary breathe that I'd unconsciously been holding. "You've…obviously thought about this."

Esme raised her eyebrows and smiled faintly. "What were you expecting?"

"Yelling," I said firmly, and Esme rolled her eyes and smiled more genuinely now. "If I were you, I'd yell," I explained sheepishly. "I'd be furious if someone ignored my wishes the way that I ignored yours."

"Edward, I'm too happy to see you to be angry at you for doing something that I realized years ago that you'd already done," Esme said, shaking her head. "We're different people, so I think it's inevitable that we have different ideas of how to take care of the people we love. The thing that matters is that we love each other, and I know you were just trying to take care of me when you did what you did to Charles. I can't agree with what you did, but I don't hate you for doing it."

"Love the sinner, hate the sin?" I said with a wry smile, but really, I was more relieved than I could say by the fact that Esme seemed able to forgive me for what I'd done. My mother was obviously unconvinced by my attempt at nonchalance, because she leaned over then and hugged me for a long time, and I hugged her back, while making a mostly successful attempt not to cry. I was _so_ glad to see her and Carlisle, and no matter how long I lived, I was fairly certain that I would continue to be amazed that they could possibly be glad to see me too.

"I accept your apology, Edward," Esme said, pulling away and kissing me on the cheek. "And I'm so, _so_ happy you're home."


	189. Gym

Hi everyone! Sorry for disappearing last week, but I'm done moving and I've started my new job! I like it so far (at least as long as we're just doing cataloging stuff, I get to listen to audio books :)), but there's no internet in my house, so I'm going to be updating earlier in the day on Sundays while I'm here (FYI, I'm here until the week after "Breaking Dawn" Part 1 comes out; my boss likes Twilight too, so maybe she'll give me a ride...:)). Today's first chapter concerns Emmett and how he might not always be able to resist the urge to compete in gym class. Thanks for your wonderful reviews (which always encourage me to work on new chapters each week), and look for one more chapter after this one tonight!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and OHMYGOSH, ONLY 39 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" Part 1! :) (Also, while I was at the grocery store today, I saw the movie edition of "Breaking Dawn," which I bought, and volume 2 of the graphic novel! What the heck? They put it out early, and I already preordered it on Amazon, so I didn't get it, but it made me so sad to walk away...)

_1949_: Gym

Emmett's POV

"So, I may have gotten a little carried away in gym class today," Emmett said. He smiled sheepishly at Carlisle as he spoke, and his father sighed. They were sitting outside the principal's office, waiting to have a meeting with the principal, the gym teacher, and the coach of the high school football team, all of whom were more than a little irritated by Emmett's insistence that under no circumstances was he going to try out for football.

"What happened?" Carlisle asked quietly. He had been called at work after attempts to reach Esme at home had failed—she was at a photography class for the afternoon, so Carlisle had volunteered to leave work early to attend this impromptu meeting.

Emmett tried to look serious as he heard the men in the office behind them stop complaining about his behavior and move toward the door. He knew that he shouldn't be amused by what he'd done, but honestly, it was hard to resist the urge to laugh. Seeing the priceless expressions on the faces of his teacher and classmates when he'd run a mile faster than almost any human should have been able to (though of course not as fast as he was capable of running) had been worth a little trouble, or at least it had seemed that way at the time. Now that Carlisle was sitting beside him looking worried though, Emmett couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

"The truth is, I just got tired of always standing around in gym doing nothing," Emmett said, speaking quickly and quietly. "I don't know why, but I just snapped today. Edward was just about ready to kill me when he saw that everyone else saw how fast I ran the mile today. As soon as I crossed the finish line, the teacher started begging me to go out for football, and then the coach came up and started pestering me too—I guess he was sitting in the stands, looking for new recruits. Anyway, I just kept telling them over and over that I'm not allowed to play football, or any other sport, so I guess the reason for this meeting is to make us explain exactly _why_ that is."

Carlisle nodded, looking relieved, which didn't surprise Emmett—a mistake like this was bad, but Emmett had done a lot worse before, and at least this time, no humans had gotten hurt. "All right. I know what to tell them."

"Dr. Cullen?" the principal said, opening the door to his office. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"I'm happy to finally meet you, Prinicipal Lewis," Carlisle said easily, shaking the man's hand. "I understand that Emmett caused quite a stir in gym class today."

"It was incredible!" the gym teacher burst out, apparently unable to contain himself any longer. "I've never seen a kid run so fast before, and given how big a guy you are, Emmett, I'm still amazed."

"Like I said before, Emmett, the football team could really use you," the football coach said irritably. "Dr. Cullen, can you shed some light on why Emmett refuses to play for us?"

"I can, actually," Carlisle said easily. "The fact is, Emmett and his brother Edward both have a rare heart condition. They'd both love to play sports, but I'm afraid that that's impossible. I know that they don't look very sickly, but any kind of strenuous physical exertion is something that they need to try and avoid if at all possible, for their own safety. Emmett did a very foolish thing, running the way he did today. I'm sure that he was fast, but the fact is, he could have died if he'd continued running for more than a few seconds."

The principal, gym teacher, and football coach were all suddenly frozen in silent dismay. Emmett had to struggle not to grin—at moments like this, the advantage of Carlisle's years as a vampire living among humans always seemed obvious. He was full of stories like this that explained weird behavior, and as with most of Carlisle's cover stories, this one was vague but too sinister-sounding to doubt, specific enough to require few follow up questions, and difficult if not impossible to verify.

"Ah," Principal Lewis said at last. "Well, that…changes matters."

"I'm sorry for not telling you this before," Emmett said, trying to look and sound remorseful. "I just figured it would be better if my dad explained it. I know that I'm not supposed to run, but today I just, I don't know, felt tired of having to be careful all the time. I wanted to see what would happen if I actually pushed myself for once."

"You're lucky to be alive, Emmett," Carlisle said seriously.

"I know," Emmett said, somehow managing to keep a straight face—his being 'alive' was of course the last thing that Carlisle actually had to worry about. "I'm sorry, dad. I promise it won't happen again."

The meeting ended fairly quickly after that. The coach left when he realized that the football team really wasn't getting a new star player, and the gym teacher left after resigning himself to the fact that Emmett was going to continue to move as slowly as possible in gym class from then on. The principal thanked Carlisle again for coming, asked about Emmett's heart condition, and Carlisle explained it in more detail, using technical terms and medical jargon that sounded made up to Emmett. Finally, they left.

"Sorry again about all that," Emmett said as they drove home. "Seriously, I'm not just saying it for show now."

"I know you are, Emmett," Carlisle said, "and I realize how frustrating it must get to have to hide your strength and speed all the time. Believe me, I'm glad that I've never had to endure a gym class. But you know that it's dangerous to attract attention like this."

"Yeah," Emmett said with a sigh. "I know. As soon as I stopped running, I realized how stupid I'd been. I just get so sick of standing around in gym class every day! I know that's no excuse, and it's not like competing against a bunch of slow humans is even fair, but…" _But what good is having amazing speed and strength if you have to hide it all the time? _he thought irritably.

As if sensing his irritation, Carlisle smiled slightly. "How about we play baseball tonight?" he said. "We'll take a quick run up to Alberta, so no humans will see or hear you being competitive."

Emmett grinned. "Okay," he said, happy that Carlisle seemed to understand how he felt. "Thanks, dad."

"Just remember to be careful in gym class from now on, all right?" he said.

"I will," Emmett promised. The occasional game of baseball with the other Cullens was enough fun to make him temporarily forget the monotony that was gym class. _Maybe I can take something else next semester,_ Emmett thought. _Like industrial arts class. At least then I'd get to play with power tools…_


	190. Tree

Hi again! Today's second chapter is just a fun moment between Rosalie and her parents. Thanks again for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," AND I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT THERE ARE ONLY 39 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 1! :)

_1998_: Tree

Rosalie's POV

Decades after she'd left the city for the last time, Rosalie was back in Rochester. She and Emmett were going to college again, as were Alice, Jasper, and Edward. They'd all enrolled at different east coast universities for a change, and that day, Emmett had taken their car ahead to the house they'd be living in to start unpacking, while Rosalie rode with Carlisle and Esme to visit the house they'd lived in when she'd first joined the family. Edward had stopped by the house the last time he'd gone to college in New York, and Carlisle and Esme had passed by the old house before too, but this would be the first time in over sixty years that Rosalie had returned to the town she'd been born in, and the house where she'd learned that she was a vampire.

She wasn't sure why she finally felt the urge to go back. For the others, Rochester was a place of mostly fond memories, but for her, the city was somewhere that she just wanted to forget…or so she'd thought. Now here she was though, standing beside her parents in a small stand of trees adjacent to what had once been their home, gazing at the place in amazement because it looked so much the same. After all these years, the house hadn't changed. Looking at it, she could pretend that she'd stepped back into 1933, if she ignored the noise of modern cars and construction equipment coming from downtown, and the sound of an airplane flying somewhere above them.

"I told you," Esme said quietly. "For a while, this place was in bad shape, but then about five years ago, the new owners decided to restore it to the way it looked when it was built in the twenties."

Rosalie shook her head and smiled wryly. "I have to admit that it looks beautiful. When exactly was it in bad shape?"

"Well, in the seventies, the owner painted it a rather awful shade of pink," Esme said with a sigh. "We," she nodded at Carlisle, "drove through town once then, and I had half a mind to sneak back in the dead of night and repaint the house a decent color."

Rosalie laughed, surprised that she even felt like laughing in the presence of this so very solid reminder of her human life and death. "What, you guys just come back here every once in a while to lurk and check on the house?"

"I wouldn't call it lurking, per say," Carlisle said with a smile. "Though I suppose since we always just observe from a distance rather than going up to the house and asking to look inside, you have a point. This place is never the only reason we come to town of course, but if we happen to be driving somewhere close to Rochester, then usually we stop by."

"You know we visit lots of our old houses, so why would this one be any exception?" Esme asked.

Rosalie shrugged. "I didn't think I liked this one. I mean, I just assumed that I would hate seeing it again. But now that we're actually here, it's…different than what I expected." Maybe enough time had passed, or maybe Rosalie had simply loved her immortal family for so many years now that she could finally look at the place where she'd once hated them, and hated the fact that she was a vampire, with something like detachment.

"Can we go look at my house before we leave?" she asked quietly.

"Of course, honey," Esme said glancing at Carlisle, who nodded.

A short car ride later, and they were there. Rosalie was a little shocked to see that what had once been the Hale house was relatively unchanged too. It could have done with a new coat of paint, and not all of the trim looked as pristine as it might have, but it was still a very fine looking house overall, and when Rosalie stood on the sidewalk, gazing at it, her eyes widened in amazement at what she saw in the front yard.

"That tree," she whispered, pointing to a tall oak on the far right side of the property. "I planted that when I was a little girl."

"How old were you?" Esme asked, staring up at the tree and gently putting her arm around Rosalie.

"Eleven, I think," Rosalie said, frowning. "The trees my brothers planted are there too—see, they're the ones on the other side of the yard. It was my father's idea for us to plant those—he told us that someday, our grandchildren would play under them."

"I'm afraid that no Hales live here anymore," Carlisle said quietly. "There are several Hales in the phone book, but they live in other parts of town now."

Rosalie turned and looked at him, realizing suddenly that she hadn't given him directions to get here—he'd known where the house was without having to ask. "I didn't have to tell you where this house was," she said, raising her eyebrows. "Have you been checking up on it too?"

"Occasionally," Carlisle said with a faint smile. "It was your house, after all. We thought you might want to see it again someday."

Rosalie shook her head. "I can't believe it. I spent so many years hating the very thought of this city, but now that I'm here…well, I still don't like it. But I don't hate it anymore either. And apparently, you two have never stopped loving it."

"Of course not," Esme said, taking Carlisle's hand. "Rochester's where Edward found us again after all those years away."

"And it's where I found you, Rosalie," Carlisle said quietly. "I've always been grateful for that."

Once, Rosalie would have given him a withering look, or she might have said something chilly and dismissive, but now she smiled at him.

"Grateful because of me, in spite of me, or both?" she said, and he chuckled.

"Both," he admitted, and they all laughed.

Rosalie continued to smile as she looked at her tree again. She wondered if it would still be here in another sixty years—stranger things had happened, certainly. Six decades ago, she never could have imagined herself standing here with Carlisle and Esme someday, knowing that she loved both of them regardless of how she'd felt in the past, or that she would find Emmett, and with him find love that made immortality more of a blessing than a curse. And no matter what happened, Rosalie was fairly certain that in another six decades, they would all still be family—long after the tree she'd planted as a girl was gone, they would still be together.


	191. Society

Hi everyone! Today's chapter (sorry I only have one ready; busy weekend) is sort of an odd one: it's about Carlisle's first visit to Volterra, and how he might have been willing to overlook his hosts' eating habits simply because he was so happy to finally have other vampires to talk to. I say "odd" because this is the kind of story that sort of sets the stage for Carlisle wanting to create his family someday, but of course, it's set more than two centuries before Esme was even born. Stories like these don't exactly seem to fit with the rest of "Eternity," but they interest me, which is why I'm happy to announce that soon, I'll be starting a new story. (Don't worry, "Eternity" isn't going to end). It's going to be about Carlisle's years alone, and though I probably won't start posting chapters until December, please look forward to it! :) Hope you've had a great weekend, and look for two more chapters later this week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and OHMYGOSH ONLY 32 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 1! SO VERY, VERY EXCITED, I REALLY NEED TO GET A TICKET SOON, AHHHH! :)

_1684_: Society

Carlisle's POV

Carlisle stared around in wonder at the halls of Volterra, amazed that such a place really existed. He'd come to Italy just a few weeks before, after several months at a university in Paris, and after several years of studying throughout Europe. For a while, Carlisle had explored every subject that interested him with equal zeal; there was so much that he'd been unable to learn about when he'd been human, but now that he was immortal, he no longer had to worry about his father disapproving of his studies, and even better, he no longer had to sleep. He could spend days reading without stopping, and he'd often done just that in his first few years as a vampire; any book on any subject was a welcome distraction from thirst.

Now, after almost two decades as a vampire, Carlisle had far less trouble with thirst than he once had, but that wasn't enough. Now that he'd begun to study medicine, he knew that he would have to perfect his control if he ever wanted to realize his dream of saving lives. It wasn't enough just to trust himself not to kill people he passed in the street—Carlisle knew that he would have to begin to expose himself to human blood. That way, eventually, he could be certain that he would never slip while helping an injured patient. For now though, Carlisle was taking a break from his studies to finally visit Volterra, after years of hearing stories about the place and wondering what it was really like.

"This way please, sir," a quiet voice said, and Carlisle turned to follow his guide, a human woman named Paula. Carlisle had heard that the Volturi employed humans, but he'd still been surprised to meet this woman in the center of the city. She'd taken one look at him and had clearly known what he was, but she'd seemed surprisingly disconcerted by his eyes when she'd timidly asked him if he was there to visit the Volturi.

"Yes, actually," he'd said, smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring way—even now that he'd been attending university classes for several years, he still spoke to humans rarely, just to be on the safe side—he knew that most were disconcerted by his pallor, unnatural beauty, and the too graceful way he had of moving, and speaking to people usually seemed to only add to their fear. "I've been in Europe for several years now, but I'm only just now getting around to visiting Volterra, I'm afraid. I don't know many others…like me, you see."

"Do you mind if I ask your name, sir?" Paula had asked, giving him a hesitant smile in return.

"Carlisle Cullen," he'd said, nodding at her and smiling again. "And yours?"

"Paula," she'd said, dropping into a low curtsey. "Please follow me, and I'll take you to the main hall." Then, without another word, she'd led him down a dark alley, through a nondescript door, and then down several winding passages before they'd emerged in this, the antechamber of what was clearly a huge underground structure. Impressed as he was by the architecture however, Carlisle was most amazed to see other vampires. They were everywhere, talking quietly in small groups, walking alone to pursue unknown errands, or simply standing and gazing about them as he was inclined to—apparently, he wasn't the only tourist.

"Do a lot of people come to visit Volterra?" Carlisle asked, knowing that Paula would assume he meant immortal people—given the Volturi's rules about secrecy, Carlisle was reluctant to utter the word "vampires" even here.

"Yes, many come to pay their respects or simply out of curiosity," Paula said, her tone neutral, and her voice quiet. Everything about her—her speech, clothing, and way moving—was, Carlisle guessed, unobjectionable by design. Clearly, Paula wanted to keep her position, and her life.

"There it is," Paula said quietly, nodding at a door at the end of the long hallway ahead of them. As they approached the door, Carlisle could smell Paula begin to sweat nervously, and he wanted to comfort her, but of course, if she was worried about the vampires on the other side of the door, a kind word from another vampire probably wouldn't help much. For Carlisle's part, he was much more excited than apprehensive—it had been over a year since he'd last spoken to another vampire (though he and Catherine had exchanged letters), and the prospect of being in a city full of his own kind made Carlisle smile eagerly as the door before them was opened by someone inside. They stepped into a large room, and Carlisle couldn't help but gaze around him in amazement.

"Hello, Paula," a cheerful voice said. "Who have you brought to see us today?"

Carlisle stopped staring in wonder at the high ceiling above them to meet the red eyes of a vampire seated on a throne on the other side of the room. On either side of him, two other vampires were seated, and Carlisle realized that these must be the brothers that Catherine and other vampires had told him about: here were Aro, Caius, and Marcus, the rulers of Volterra. Several vampires were positioned inconspicuously behind them, clearly guarding them, and Carlisle noticed for the first time since he'd entered the room that two large vampires guarded the door he and Paula had passed through.

"His name is Carlisle Cullen, sir," Paula said, dropping into a curtsey so low that she was almost on her knees, as if in prayer. "I had never seen one of you with yellow eyes before, so I took the liberty of guiding him directly to you."

Carlisle blinked self-consciously. Vampires and humans alike always stared at his eyes, but now, he suddenly had a lot more people than usual staring at him with open curiosity.

"Thank you, Paula," the vampire in the middle said, standing up and moving toward Carlisle. "Please return to the courtyard now to see if we shall have any other guests this afternoon. We always have so many visitors on cloudy days."

Paula quickly left the room after another curtsey, and Carlisle smiled slightly, relieved. At least Paula's nerves about her employers had been unfounded…this time.

"My name is Aro, Carlisle," the vampire said, nodding at him and smiling as he paused a few steps away. "Welcome to Volterra."

"Thank you, and I'm pleased to meet you, Aro" Carlisle said. When Aro didn't look offended, Carlisle was relieved—apparently the vampires here only expected humans to address them with an excess of deference. They shook hands., and Aro's eyes widened as they did so. Then he grinned.

"Why, I'm even more pleased to meet you, I think, Carlisle," Aro said. "Like dear Paula, I've never seen one of our kind with eyes the color of yours. It's wonderfully unique, and I must tell you that here in Volterra, being unique can be quite an asset."

"From what I've been told, I think it's because of my diet," Carlisle said tentatively. "You see, I don't drink human blood. Since I was changed, I've only fed on animals."

"Ridiculous," a chilly voice behind Aro said—Carlisle saw that the vampire who had spoken was the blond one seated on another throne.

"It's quite true, Caius," Aro said, staring at Carlisle with a mixture of surprise and delight. "His thoughts reveal it."

Carlisle frowned. "My thoughts? How can you—"

"It appears that an explanation is in order," Aro said, smiling. "Come. Let us discuss this somewhere a bit more inviting. I see you have a lot of questions about us, and I must say that I have many questions for you."

Carlisle nodded and followed Aro, who he now noticed was closely pursued by a female vampire in a robe nearly as black as Aro's, to the other side of the throne room. Though Carlisle was slightly unnerved by the strangeness of his new surroundings, he also felt happier than he had in some time. Here at last was the sense of community he'd been missing; though it was clear from their eyes that their diet consisted of human blood, for now at least, Carlisle was more than willing to ignore that difference if doing so meant that he might have a home and friends among immortals. Here, in this subterranean city, he could finally be a part of a civilized group of individuals again, instead of lurking on the fringe of things, having to hide what he really was: a monster that humans feared. Carlisle had no idea how long the novelty of such a thing would last, but for now at least, he was ecstatic to once again feel like he was part of a society.


	192. Teaching

Happy Monday, everyone! (Actually though, happy "Monday is almost over" might be a better way of putting it... :)) Today's first chapter is a cute one about Esme substitute teaching; obviously, it might be a bad idea for her to try and commit to being a teacher for an entire school year, but I think that just being a substitute would probably be safe. (Please note that this may be a reader request, but I can't remember—I don't have my story notes with me). Thanks as always for your truly great and always encouraging reviews, and look for one more chapter after this one tonight! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 31 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 1! AMAZING! :)

_1975_: Teaching

Esme's POV

It was a chilly fall afternoon, and Esme was amused, as she often was when substitute teaching, at the fascinated looks she was getting from her students, most of whom, she guessed, normally didn't pay rapt attention in advanced algebra class. As she explained the day's assignment and went through the lesson that their usual teacher, Mr. Blatchford, had left behind, the students stared at her attentively, but she had the distinct impression that most of them weren't really listening to what she was actually saying. Instead, they were memorizing details so they could tell their friends later that the Cullens' and Hales' mother had been their substitute that day. This wasn't exactly a small town, but it was small enough that people naturally gossiped a little about the strange and beautiful Cullens and Hales.

Usually, Esme preferred substitute teaching at the middle school or elementary school for precisely this reason; it wasn't as though anyone ever made fun of her children—humans were too instinctively wary of vampires to dare to do much more than whisper about them behind their backs—but Esme didn't like to be fodder for gossip. In spite of the drawbacks though, she did enjoy teaching high school. It was fun, meeting different kids and teaching them about different subjects, though she often doubted that kids learned much on the days she taught them; usually, they were too distracted by her looks, unusually melodic voice, and overall otherness to really pay attention to trivial things like the lesson she was trying to teach them.

"Okay," Esme said. "Mr. Blatchford's note says that for the rest of the hour, you can all work on your homework assignment for today. When you're finished, you can talk quietly or use the time to work on other homework. Just let me know if you have any questions."

Esme sat down at the teacher's desk then and looked at the class expectantly. As she'd assumed they would, the students dutifully looked down at their books and worksheets and started scribbling. Esme smiled—she liked this part of being a vampire. She'd heard horror stories from other substitutes about unruly classes who wouldn't listen to a word you said, but as a rule, Esme never had much trouble getting kids to do what she told them to. It wasn't so much that they were afraid of her, though Esme knew she made humans nervous sometimes in spite of her efforts to be friendly. Rather, it was as though humans of any age could sense that they were better off doing what a vampire told them instead of trying to antagonize or flee from a superior predator.

It was hard not to grin at the thought of predatory substitute teachers, but Esme restrained herself. She'd seen Edward and the others briefly at lunch, and she'd been amused by the way they'd all ignored her, in true high school kid fashion, but through their assumed embarrassment at having their mother seen at school with them, she could tell that they were all trying not to laugh. Edward could of course hear what the other students thought of her, and he was most likely passing on the most amusing snatches of thought and conversation to his siblings.

"Mrs. Cullen?" a girl in the front row said tentatively. "Could you show me how to do this one part again?"

Esme stood up, went to the girl's desk, and explained a formula, being careful all the while not to stand too close to her. The girl nodded as though she understood, and Esme wondered if this was a sort of test—she'd already announced that Mr. Blatchford was going to be gone for at least a week while he recovered from minor surgery, and the girl, an honor roll student that Esme recognized from yearbooks that the kids had brought home, might just want to see if Mrs. Cullen could really teach math, or if she could only read from her lesson plan. (The girl's name, Esme knew, was Judy Fremer, but Esme thought it would seem suspicious if she let it be known that she knew any of her students' names yet, so she tried not to think about it).

"Thanks," Judy said quietly, smiling. "I figure I should know all of this perfectly before I take Calculus next year."

"You're welcome," Esme said, smiling too. Any day that a student actually spoke a complete sentence to her was a good one as far as she was concerned. About thirty minutes later, most of the kids, including the girl in the front row, were finished with their homework or at least pretending that they were, and they were chatting with their friends, doodling in their notebooks, or sleeping.

"Mrs. Cullen?" a boy said suddenly, and the class abruptly quieted down. "Sorry, but I have kind of…an opinion question."

"Go ahead," Esme said, amused.

"Is any of this stuff actually useful in real life, or do we just have to know it to get into a good college and get a good job?"

"Well, I guess it depends," Esme said with a shrug. "My husband doesn't use algebra much as a doctor, but right now I'm back in school to get a degree in architecture, so I actually use some of these formulas a lot."

That statement provoked an interested murmur.

"So, you're Dr. Cullen's wife?" Judy said, adjusting her glasses. "I broke my arm skiing a while ago, and he set the bone at the hospital."

"That's me," Esme said cheerfully. "And you probably all know our adopted children, the Cullens and the Hales."

Everyone nodded, and Esme tried not to sigh. The very fact that her family was so well known, and that humans seemed to be getting increasingly comfortable talking to them or about them was further proof that it was almost time to move. They'd lived in this little town for over three years, and after the kids graduated in June, it would be time to relocate again. Still, for now at least, Esme planned to enjoy the fact that the kids in her class were daring enough to actually speak to her.

Just then, the bell rang, and the students hurried out toward their last period classes.

"See you tomorrow," Esme said, shuffling her notes and getting ready for the next group of students.

"Bye, Mrs. Cullen," Judy called, and Esme smiled and waved to her. Though she worried that she never really taught her students much, and today was the rare day when they actually spoke to her, right then, Esme had no complaints. Moments like this reminded Esme why she loved teaching.


	193. Feeling

Once again, hello and Happy Monday! Today's second and last chapter is about Jasper, and how he might have had trouble living with the amorous feelings of the other Cullens when he and Alice first joined them. Thanks one more time for your reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday with three new chapters! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 31 MORE DAYS! EXCITED FANGIRL SQUEAL OF DELIGHT! :)

_1951_: Feeling

Jasper's POV

With a sigh, Jasper tried to concentrate on the game of chess he was playing with Edward. It was bad enough that Edward could see what his next move would be, but adding to his distraction was the fact that Alice was out on a shopping trip with Rosalie. Emmett was sitting on the other side of the room, ostensibly listening to the radio, but his eagerness and impatience for Rosalie to get home kept making Jasper lose his focus.

"Honestly," Emmett said with a long-suffering sigh, "I will never understand how Rose can spend so many hours just looking at clothes. Clothes just aren't that interesting."

"Be patient, Emmett," Edward said calmly. "You're distracting Jasper."

"So?" Emmett said. "You're going to win anyway. No offense, Jasper, but you know he is."

"I know," Jasper said grimly, "but I still want to put up a good fight. However…"

Feelings more intense than Emmett's impatience and Edward's boredom with what was clearly a game that he was going to win eventually were distracting him now.

It was Edward's turn to sigh now. "Carlisle and Esme?"

Jasper nodded and smiled faintly. "Can you hear what they're thinking?"

"Thankfully, I can't hear anything specific from this far away," Edward said, rolling his eyes. "That's why Esme tends to build three story houses. At this distance, I can hear them very faintly, but if I think about other things, I won't be privy to anything too embarrassing."

"Hmm," Jasper said, trying to keep his thoughts on the game—Jasper was happy for Edward that he couldn't hear exactly what Carlisle and Esme were thinking, but with only two floors separating them, Jasper had a more than passing awareness of just what they were feeling.

"Yikes," Edward muttered, hearing Jasper's thoughts, and Emmett laughed.

"Wow. I know that sometimes your talents come in handy, but mostly, I just feel sorry for you guys, having to hear and feel all that stuff."

"Not to criticize, but you and Rosalie tend to be worse than Carlisle and Esme are," Jasper pointed out, finally moving his rook forward to take a pawn. Edward in turn moved a bishop and took the rook.

"Yeah, I bet we are," Emmett said, shrugging and smiling unrepentantly.

Jasper and Alice had been living with the Cullens for several months now, and Jasper was still somewhat surprised at how readily they'd been accepted by the family. Alice was likeable of course, and her gift was a powerful one, but most covens still would have shown a little more trepidation when approached by potential new members. Maria, for her part, had always assumed that strange vampires asking to join her coven were really spies from other covens, sent there to kill or steal her most useful members, and Jasper had usually been charged with killing such immortals as soon as he could do so inconspicuously. But of course, Carlisle Cullen's coven was very different from Maria's.

It was strange, after so many years of fighting and killing, to suddenly be sitting here with his adopted "brothers," safe in this quiet house far from any potential rival covens, his only difficulty the embarrassing matter of having to sense the emotions of his "parents" while they enjoyed each other's company up in their room. Jasper was grateful for the change, but it could still be rather disconcerting some days. And though his gift enabled him to soothe or elevate the emotions of his new family members when necessary (Rosalie especially hadn't reacted well to their arrival at first, and had taken some calming down), Jasper still kept a little apart from them. His knowledge of how different their lives had been up until recently just made keeping a little distance between them seem best. Instead of having decades (or centuries, in Carlisle's case) of self control behind him, it had been less than a year since the last time he'd killed a human. Jasper wondered just how his new family would react the next time he slipped…

Still, it was surprisingly easy to spend time with Edward and Emmett like this. Emmett seemed like the sort of person who could get along with almost anyone, and Edward, though impatient and irritable at times because of his inability to completely block out the thoughts of others, was usually pleasant company. Of course, Jasper's opinion of Edward was at least partially due to the fact that they possessed gifts with similar inconveniences, so they could sympathize with one another.

"Check," Edward said with a smirk, and Jasper sighed again. Naturally, sympathizing with one another was one thing, and being merciful in chess was quite another.

"Finally," Emmett said, smiling as they all heard a car turn down the driveway. Instantly, Jasper felt better. He could already feel Alice, cheerful as she always was after a successful day of shopping, and Rosalie's mood was happy too. It must have been a very good day of shopping for Rosalie to be so pleased, but of course for Alice, there almost never seemed to be a bad day, no matter what she did. Jasper moved his queen quickly, knowing what would happen when he did, and sure enough,

"Checkmate," Edward said smugly. "What happened to putting up a good fight?"

"If I can chose between watching my wife show off her new outfits or having you beat me at chess for the umpteenth time, my course is clear," Jasper said with a shrug, smiling when he heard the door open.

"Hi!" Alice called unnecessarily, skipping into the house laden with boxes and bags. "As you can see, it was a good day to buy things."

"Every day is a good day to buy things," Rosalie pointed out with a smile. "Shall I run some of our old clothing to Salvation Army tomorrow, or would you like to?"

"I'll go," Alice offered. "I need to go through my clothes anyway. Jasper does too."

She smiled at him, and he smiled back. They always enjoyed going through old clothes together and reminiscing about what they'd been doing when they'd worn something last, though given Alice's fondness for impromptu fashion shows, it always seemed to take them a long time to actually accomplish anything productive. When he was with Alice, it was always easier for Jasper to ignore the feelings of others. With her, he could simply focus on how happy she was to be with him, and how happy he was to be with her. There was no better feeling in the world than the one he got from knowing that Alice was happy.


	194. Sorry

Hi everyone! I had guests this weekend, so once again, it looks like I'll be posting one chapter tonight and then one tomorrow. Today's chapter is (if memory serves) a reader request: it deals with Alice's thoughts on killing humans and how she might have slipped in the past. Next week I'm hoping to have three chapters ready for you, and the week before "Breaking Dawn," I'm planning to post a chapter every day (ha ha, I really need to get started on those…:)), so stay tuned for those updates—they're only about two weeks away now! Thanks as always for your reviews, and I hope you had a great weekend! I'll see you again tomorrow! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 25 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 1! I'VE FINALLY GOT MY TICKET FOR THE MIDNIGHT SHOW! :)

_1950_: Sorry

Alice's POV

During their first week with the Cullens, Alice spent a lot of time talking to everyone—she'd envisioned the conversations that she'd have with Rosalie about clothing, how Edward would be by turns fascinated and disconcerted by her visions, how Emmett would be friendly and cheerful no matter what odd things she said about the future, how Jasper would be slightly on edge but would gradually relax, and how Carlisle and Esme would welcome them with open arms. Of course, as trusting as the Cullens were, even Carlisle and Esme had questions about their newfound offspring. It was while they were folding some laundry together one morning that Esme finally broached a subject that Alice had seen her contemplating for several days.  
"Alice, I hate to ask this, because it's not something that any of us like to talk about," Esme said gently, "but Carlisle and I were wondering—"

"How long it's been since the last time Jasper and I slipped?" Alice said, and Esme sighed, clearly both relieved and bemused.

"I guess I shouldn't have worried so much about asking, since you'd already seen me ask," Esme said, smiling slightly.

"It's not like it's a rude question anyway," Alice pointed out. "I'm only surprised you didn't ask us sooner, for safety reasons, I mean. It's been about nine months since the last time Jasper killed a human, which is why he hasn't gone into town yet."

"I wondered," Esme murmured sympathetically. "He seems to only leave the house to hunt, so I thought it might have happened recently."

"It's been eleven years for me," Alice said, concentrating very hard on the shirt she was folding. She didn't like to talk about this, but she knew that Carlisle and Esme had a right to know, now that they were sharing a home and territory. Still, Alice didn't enjoy dwelling on her mistakes—thanks to her gift, she hadn't slipped much even in her early years as a vampire, but the few times she had still haunted her.

"What year were you changed, Alice?" Esme asked quietly.

Alice looked up, surprised. "1920. Why?"

"Carlisle changed me in 1921, and it's only been sixteen years since my last slip," she said kindly. "We all feel bad when it happens, and for a long time after that, but you were alone for so long, and under the circumstances, I think you've done wonderfully. I can't imagine what I would have done if there hadn't been someone there to guide me after the change."

Alice smiled sadly. "Thank you. It's just, with what I can do, I can't help but think that I should have been able to stop myself. Every time I've slipped, I saw it happen before it happened, but I couldn't change things. I just…didn't have the self control to do things any differently."

Alice recalled the last time she'd slipped. It had happened before she'd met Jasper: one night, while passing through Boston, she was walking through a bad part of town—she'd seen herself going there, she hadn't known why, but then a man had said 'hello' to her. He was handsome, maybe in his late thirties or early forties, and he'd said,

"This isn't a safe place for a young woman to be wandering alone at night. Would you like me to walk you home?"

When Alice remembered him later, the worst part, in a way, was that she never knew if he'd really meant to help her, or if he'd intended to harm her. She couldn't see his true motivations for stopping her and speaking to her that night, though of course, it didn't really matter either way; whether he'd meant to hurt her or not, that was no excuse for killing him. Just before the man had opened his mouth, she'd had a vision of him speaking to her, and then she saw his death. She saw herself pushing him into a dark alley a few yards away, tearing out his throat and then finally, finally quenching her thirst, which had suddenly become excruciating when the man had stepped toward her. She'd killed him in seconds, and though she'd seen it all happen in advance, she hadn't been able to change the future.

It wasn't the first time that such a thing had happened either. Alice had seen all of her victims' deaths before she'd killed them, and every time it happened, she had truly hated her gift. What was the point of being able to foresee something terrible in time to stop it if you weren't strong enough to stop yourself from being the perpetrator?

"We all wish we could have done things differently, Alice," Esme said gently. "I don't think it's a matter of being weak or strong—it may sound like a flimsy excuse, but sometimes we all just get too thirsty to resist."

"Except for Carlisle," Alice said with a wry smile.

Esme chuckled fondly. "I think that Carlisle is the only exception to that rule though. For the rest of us, thirst has the power to banish all our good intentions just long enough for us to do something horrible. When I've slipped, I've found that the best thing I can do is to give myself the time I need to feel guilty. Before long, when I start to feel something other than guilt again, I remind myself that it isn't easy to resist, but that it's worth working at it. Every time I've made a mistake, afterwards, I've become more dedicated than ever to not letting it happen again, and so far, this time, it's working."

Alice nodded—Esme had described her own feelings remarkably well. "That's true for me too. What's helped me the past few decades, when I've been tempted to just give up, is remembering how sorry I am every time I slip, and knowing that no matter how much I regret what I've done, I can never bring back the people I've killed. I just tell myself over and over that agonizing thirst is better than the guilt of destroying someone, and that I'd rather be in pain for a little while than have to feel sorry about what I've done for the rest of my existence."

Esme smiled as Alice set aside the last of the laundry, all of it folded now. "Thank you, Alice. For helping with the laundry, and talking about this, I mean."

Alice shrugged. "You're welcome. You needed to know, and…maybe I needed to talk about it."

Though she knew that she could never forget her past mistakes, Alice had felt far more optimistic about the future ever since she and Jasper had joined the Cullens. From now on, Alice knew that they would all make fewer mistakes: her gift would help the others avoid killing humans, and the support of their new family would help both her and Jasper to become better able to resist their thirst. Still, the thought of having slipped in the past always subdued Alice. No matter how long she lived, and even if she never killed another human for the rest of her existence, when she thought of her past victims, she would always feel sorry.


	195. Date

Hi again! (Yeah, my planned Monday update has turned into a Tuesday update—sorry). Today's chapter concerns Carlisle and Esme going on a double date with Irina and a human boyfriend of hers. Thanks once again for your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again on Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer (as you know) is the author of "Twilight," and THERE ARE ONLY 22 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 1! SO EXCITED! :)

_1962_: Date

Carlisle's POV

During the second week of their annual visit with the Denalis, Irina drew Carlisle and Esme aside one night and asked if they would mind going on a double date with her and her current boyfriend.

"He's the sweetest thing," Irina said fondly. "I met him in the history class that Kate and I are taking this semester, and he's been asking me for ages to have dinner at this restaurant. Usually, I think of some excuse for not going to restaurants, but if you two are there, maybe he won't notice me not eating anything."

Carlisle and Esme glanced at each other.

"I think it sounds like fun," Esme said, and Carlisle nodded.

"We almost never go to restaurants either, so it's nice to have an excuse. Who should we introduce ourselves as?"

Irina looked at the two of them thoughtfully. "I suppose that either of you could be a cousin of mine, or Esme, you could be a childhood friend or something…hmm, I guess the easiest thing to do is to say that Carlisle and I are cousins though. That way, Bobby won't have any reason to be jealous."

Carlisle smiled and Esme laughed.

"Why don't we say that I'm your brother then, just to be safe," he said, and Irina nodded, laughing too now. They'd both lived in eras when it hadn't been that unusual to marry one's cousin, which, knowing Irina's sense of humor, was exactly what she'd meant to imply.

* * *

The following evening, they met at the restaurant—Irina came with Bobby, because they'd had a class together earlier that afternoon. Both were graduate students at the University of Alaska (which was quite a commute for Irina and her sisters, though they usually ran to school instead of driving, since running was faster). Though it always amused Carlisle that Irina, Tanya, and Kate so enjoyed studying history, having lived through so much of it, he supposed that they liked to hear human interpretations of the different centuries they'd lived in—besides, they'd spent so many centuries in Russia that perhaps the history of the world outside their homeland could still be entertaining.

"So Bobby's a history major," Esme said, shaking her head and smiling.

Carlisle laughed. "I was just thinking about that too. I suppose it makes sense. Irina likes to study history, and I'm sure she likes having someone to talk to about it who hasn't lived through it all the way she and her sisters have."

"It's been ages since we last met one of her boyfriends," Esme said with a smile. "I wonder…"

Carlisle nodded. This wasn't the first double date that he and Esme had gone on with Irina and a human suitor, but Irina never suggested double dates unless she really liked the human in question. Carlisle knew that like him, Esme was wondering just how serious Irina was about this man. She hadn't seemed 'in love' exactly when she'd spoken of him, but still, it was hard to resist the urge to be optimistic. After nearly a thousand years of flings, Carlisle couldn't help but hope that Irina had finally found someone who she wanted to be with permanently. Then again, was that what she really wanted? Carlisle didn't know—Irina and both of her sisters always seemed cheerful and satisfied, but since he'd met Esme, he simply couldn't imagine a life of fleeting liaisons and passing affections.

"We'll see," was all he said to Esme, because they were within earshot of a group of humans entering the restaurant. When they got inside, they immediately spotted Irina, whose golden hair and huge smile lit up the room. Beside her was a man who looked to be in his late twenties. He had brown hair, glasses, and a boyish grin that made it clear that he felt like the luckiest man in the room, or possibly the luckiest man on the planet, to be sitting next to Irina. A number of human couples were giving the pair covert looks of either awe and jealousy (mostly in the case of men) or irritation (mostly in the case of women).

"Bobby," Irina said happily, "this is my brother Carlisle and his wife, Esme. They're up here visiting from Oregon for a couple of weeks."

"Nice to meet you," Bobby said, clearly startled by the appearance of two people as stunning as his girlfriend. "I—I can definitely see the family resemblance. You even have the same eyes."

Carlisle chuckled. "Yes, we often hear that." Esme, meanwhile, smiled and shook Bobby's hand after Carlisle did—she was, per Alice's advice, wearing contact lens to conceal her own golden irises.

Dinner was a surprisingly pleasant affair, 'surprisingly' because not every double date they'd ever been on with Irina had gone well. Some men, when surrounded by three vampires, simply grew tongue-tied, and spent the evening staring mutely from one gorgeous face to another, as if stunned into silence by the danger humans could often sense lurking beneath the beautiful faces of immortals. Bobby though was apparently accustomed enough to Irina's strangeness that the presence of two more vampires didn't seem to disconcert him much. He marveled at the fact that Carlisle already had his doctorate and Esme had her master's degree.

"You both look younger than I am though!" he said, obviously impressed. "Did you skip grades in school or something?"

"Only a couple," Carlisle said with a smile. "My elder brother was a doctor too, so before he died, he was a huge help with my studies. Besides, I'm older than I look. I'm thirty-two."

"Really," Bobby said, looking more resigned than skeptical as he glanced at Irina. "Genetics seem really unfair sometimes, you know?"

"You look younger than you really are too though," Irina pointed out, putting a hand on his arm, and Bobby grinned.

"It's a double-edged sword though, I guess," Bobby admitted. "It's strange to be in grad school but still be mistaken for a high school student sometimes. That's happened to both of us recently."

"It can be inconvenient," Carlisle said with a chuckle. "People worry about my age sometimes. They assume I must be an overzealous med student who's going to accidentally remove their spleen or something."

Bobby laughed. "If you're as smart as Irina is, I'm sure you're good at everything—even spleen-related stuff."

Throughout the meal, Carlisle and Esme were careful to keep Bobby engaged in conversation so he wouldn't notice the way Irina kept discreetly disposing of the food on her plate. Still, he rarely took his eyes off her, and Carlisle couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the man. Though Irina seemed to enjoy his company, he clearly cared for her more than she did for him, which had always been the case with Irina.

Carlisle remembered when she'd once expressed interest in him; aside from the fact that he hadn't reciprocated, Carlisle had discouraged her advances as politely as possible for the simple fact that Irina hadn't really seemed all that interested in him either. He wondered what would happen when she finally found someone who she truly loved—how would she behave then? And would the person she chose love her in return? Judging by the almost reverent way that Bobby (and most other men, both human and vampire) looked at Irina, there seemed to be little chance that she would be unlucky in love, once she found someone she wanted to keep permanently.

Bobby and Irina talked about grad school, which Carlisle and Esme had both attended recently enough to reminisce about realistically; Carlisle and Esme talked about their adopted children, which impressed Bobby—"I'd really have to be with the right person before I ever considered having kids," Bobby said, sending a shy glance Irina's way, and Irina smiled a little sadly; and by the time dessert had come and gone, Bobby still seemed unaware that he was the only person at the table who had actually eaten anything.

"It was great meeting you," Esme said when the bill had been paid and everyone was preparing to leave. "Irina couldn't wait to introduce us to you, and now I know why."

"Thanks," Bobby said, blushing a little as he shook hands with both Cullens again. "I'm really glad I got to meet both of you, too. How much longer are you going to be in town?"

"Only a few more days," Carlisle said. "Maybe we can have lunch sometime this week if you two have a break between classes though."

"Would Friday work?" Irina said quickly, mouthing the words "thank you" when Bobby wasn't looking. "Neither of us has class in the afternoon then."

"Sounds great," Bobby said, smiling, and they all agreed to meet for lunch on campus at noon on Friday before they got into their separate cars and drove away.

"I guess she's going back to his apartment for the night," Esme said, her expression both pleased and slightly worried.

"I think he'll be safe," Carlisle said gently. "It's been a long time since Irina's slipped, and she really seems to care for him, so I'm sure she'll be careful."

"It's always hard for them though, isn't it?" Esme said quietly. "When she gets tired of them, I mean. Of course, it's hard for her too. I can't imagine falling in and out of love over and over, though I suppose Irina might not think of it that way."

"I think it is love, even if it isn't the eternal kind," Carlisle said, taking Esme's hand. "She'll love Bobby for as long as they're together, but when it's time to move on, she will. She might even break it off soon, before things get more serious."

"I sort of hope so," Esme said quietly. "He already seems head over heels in love—the longer they're together, the harder it's going to be for him to give her up, and I'm sure the reverse is true, though Irina might not want to admit it."

Carlisle nodded. Since he'd met Esme, he couldn't imagine being with anyone else, but Irina and her sisters were different. He shouldn't just assume that Irina was unhappy, but at the same time, he knew that it must be difficult for her to watch her lovers age, to always have to leave them before they could notice that she didn't.

"In any case, I'm glad that she invited us out like this," Carlisle said with a smile. "Irina and the others might not be happy in the same way that we are, but they do enjoy their romantic lives. For someone as old as she is, I'm always impressed by the way she can live in the moment."

"That's true," Esme said, smiling now as she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you for dinner, by the way. No matter the location, I always enjoy our dates."

"Likewise," Carlisle said with a chuckle, "but what do you say we go have a real dinner now? Just the two of us?"

Esme grinned. "That sounds perfect," she said.

Carlisle smiled eagerly at the thought of hunting with Esme, and how they would follow their meal with a more private sort of date…


	196. Found

Hi everyone! Today's first chapter is a cute one about Nessie and the rest of the Cullens having fun together. :) Thanks as always for your reviews, which I love so very much, and look for two more chapters after this one tonight! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 18 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 1! THERE'S SO LITTLE TIME LEFT IN WHICH TO FREAK OUT, SO AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

_2007_: Found

Nessie's POV

"Okay, ready or not, here I come!" Nessie called, uncovering her eyes and turning away from the tree trunk she'd been leaning against to face the forest. Nessie took a deep breath and caught several scents heading in different directions, but she decided to follow Uncle Jasper's first—knowing him, he would go easy on her. Sure enough, he was lurking less than a mile away, hiding in a cave created by the overhanging roots of several old trees and concealed by a tall stand of ferns.

"Found you, Uncle Jasper!" Nessie called, and with a chuckle, he emerged from his hiding place.

"I thought that crossing the creek might throw you off my scent," he said. "Apparently though, I was wrong."

"Yup," Nessie said cheerfully. "Now, let's see who's next…"

Sniffing at the air again, Nessie dashed off in a different direction. She could smell Aunt Rose nearby, but her scent wasn't as clear as Uncle Jasper's had been. Nessie looked around quizzically, then smiled as she realized what she was missing. After selecting a likely-looking tree, Nessie quickly scurried upward. From her vantage point near the top of a tall evergreen, she could see the forest for miles around. That was how she spotted Aunt Rose just three trees away, her golden hair very conspicuous in the midst of a sea of green, though she tried to duck behind a branch when she spotted Nessie grinning at her.

"Found you!" Nessie called. "I couldn't see you from the ground because you're wearing a green dress. Did you do that on purpose?

"Maybe," Rosalie said slyly, racing Nessie to the ground. Uncle Jasper was gone, probably hunting while he waited for the game to end. Nessie took a deep breath and wondered who she should search for next.

"Want a hint?" Rosalie offered.

"Sure," Nessie said, looking at her expectantly.

"Uncle Emmett's probably cheating," Rosalie said, then took off through the forest, running back toward the house. Nessie frowned and wondered how Uncle Emmett might try to cheat at hide and seek, but she smiled again when an errant breeze carried Aunt Alice's scent toward her. Nessie raced in that direction, and soon found herself standing outside the cottage. Being very quiet, Nessie opened the front door and slipped inside, then followed her nose to her parents' bedroom. Aunt Alice, as it turned out, was in Mamma's closet, frowning at the few clothes that Mamma actually wore and the many that she didn't.

"Gotcha," Nessie said, and Alice turned to her with a long-suffering smile.

"When you find your mother, please tell her that we need to have a serious conversation about her wardrobe," Alice said, taking Nessie's hand as they headed back outside together.

"I will," Nessie promised, and while Aunt Alice ran home, Nessie followed at a distance. She'd caught Uncle Emmett's scent now—he was somewhere nearby…but then, all at once, the scent disappeared. Nessie considered the problem, then looked toward the river, which was about twenty yards away. She couldn't jump that far—her legs were too short—but Uncle Emmett easily could, if he got a running start. Smiling, Nessie walked to the edge of the river and gazed into the slow-moving water for a few seconds. Then she jumped in.

After swimming around for a few minutes, she found Uncle Emmett near the edge of the opposite bank of the river, crouched behind a boulder. He grinned when she appeared, and he allowed her to grab his arm and pull him to the surface.

"Aunt Rosalie was right!" Nessie said, shaking water from her hair. "You did cheat!

"Did not," Emmett said, still grinning. "You never said the river was off limits."

"True, but you violated the spirit if not the letter of the rules," Nessie said, trying to sound haughty the way Aunt Rose did when she was trying to win an argument, and Uncle Emmett laughed.

"See you at home," Emmett called, running back to the house. Nessie thought about going back to the cottage and changing clothes, but it wasn't as though she could catch cold, and anyway, her damp clothing didn't bother her—she would just have to be careful not to drip water on any irreplaceable antiques when she went inside. After circling the house several times, Nessie decided that everyone else must be hiding inside; their scents had all led in this direction, and they were fresher here than they'd been in the forest. Pausing only to take off her shoes in the front hallway, Nessie immediately made her way upstairs to grandpa's office. There, she found Mamma hiding under grandpa's desk, reading a book while she waited to be found.

"I found you, but you can stay here and read until I find everyone else," Nessie said.

"Thanks," Bella said, kissing her on the cheek. Smiling, Nessie went to look for Dad. His scent led to his old bedroom, which seemed to be a fairly obvious hiding place, but it still took Nessie a few confused seconds to find him once she got inside. He wasn't under the bed, or in the closet, or clinging to the side of the house just outside his window, which left only…

"You're in the ceiling!" Nessie cried, hopping up onto the top of the bed's canopy and pushing back a panel that revealed an entrance to a crawl space.

"You got me," Dad said, grinning at her as he climbed out of the crawl space.

Nessie laughed and jumped on the bed for a few seconds. "You're all dusty!" she said, watching him shake dust out of his hair and clothes.

"It was worth it," Dad said.

"That _was_ a good hiding place," Nessie agreed. Then she stopped jumping. "Now I just need to find Jacob, grandma, and grandpa."

"Try the attic," Dad advised. "When I was in the crawl space, I heard someone moving around upstairs."

"Thanks, Dad!" Nessie called, dashing off. After jumping up and pulling down the little staircase from the ceiling, Nessie raced up into the attic. There, she found Jacob hiding under the drop cloth that covered an old couch.

"You know, I might not have found you right away if I hadn't seen the light from your cell phone," Nessie said dryly.

"Sorry, I was texting Seth to tell him when dinner is," Jacob said, grinning at her. "Besides, if it took you this long to get here, I must be the last one, right?"

"Nope," Nessie said, moving over to the little window at the other end of the attic and opening it to sniff the air outside. It was so small that an adult couldn't fit through it…but Nessie could. "Grandpa and grandma are still hiding. I think I know where they are though." Then, before Jacob could stop her, Nessie dove out the little window, grabbed the gutter and swung herself up onto the roof of the house.

"Found you!" Nessie cried, and grandma and grandpa both laughed and hugged her, while below them, Jacob swore with shock.

"Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?" he shouted.

"Sorry!" Nessie called, but she wasn't really.

"Don't worry, we've got her," grandma said, grinning at her.

"What's my time?" Nessie asked, and grandpa looked at his watch.

"Nineteen minutes, thirty-two seconds," he declared. "Your best time yet."

"Yes!" Nessie cried. "It's a new world record! Oh, but there probably aren't really records for hide and seek, are there?"

"If there aren't, then there should be," grandma declared, and Nessie grinned. She loved playing hide and seek with everyone—no matter how long it took her to locate them, her aunts, uncles, parents, grandparents, and Jacob too, were always happy when she found them, and Nessie was too, when she took turns hiding. There was nothing quite like the feeling of being found.


	197. Conversation

Hi again! This week's second chapter is a reader request that I've been looking forward to writing for a long time. It's set prior to the events of "Breaking Dawn," and it involves Edward asking his brothers for advice on how to handle his upcoming honeymoon. Thanks again for your really and truly great reviews, and look for one more chapter after this tonight! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 18 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 1! AHHHHHH, SO VERY, VERY EXCITED! :)

_2006_: Conversation

Edward's POV

A week before the wedding, I finally got up the nerve to ask Emmett and Jasper to come to my room so we could discuss something. It was a subject that had been worrying me for some time, and though I'd been dreading this conversation and all its embarrassing possibilities, the fact remained that I needed my brothers' advice. Jasper could of course sense my intense discomfort as soon as he entered the room, but Emmett simply looked puzzled as he sat down on the edge of the bed. I closed the door, then with a sigh, sat down on the couch beside the window and turned to look at my brothers, their expressions expectant.

"All right," I said finally. "I asked the two of you to come in here because I have…some questions about…well, you can probably guess what about."

"Nope," Emmett said cheerfully. "No idea, so you'd better just spell it out."

I scowled at him. Clearly, Emmett wasn't going to make this easy.

"Fine," I growled. "I need to know what…what my honeymoon's going to be like."

"Isle Esme should be really nice this time of year," Emmett said airily, and Jasper snorted with helpless laughter.

"Sex," I said finally, too frustrated to be embarrassed now. "I'm asking you about consummating my marriage, all right? Happy now?"

As soon as I'd said the word 'sex,' Emmett had burst out laughing. Jasper, who was obviously struggling not to get caught up in Emmett's mood, covered his mouth and shook with silent laughter for a few seconds before he calmed down. Emmett, however, continued to snicker.

I rolled my eyes. "Though I foresaw the possibility of this very outcome, would it kill either of you to be just a little bit helpful?"

"Sorry," Emmett said, still grinning. "I just couldn't resist."

"I just…want to know what to expect," I said awkwardly. Now that my irritation was fading, I was starting to feel embarrassed again—suddenly I was grateful that Emmett had made a joke out of this. If he and Jasper had been as deadly serious as I was, we probably would have all sat there stammering uncomfortably for most of the evening.

Emmett shrugged, totally unembarrassed. "You've been hearing my thoughts for about seventy years now, Edward," he pointed out. "You know I think that sex is awesome."

"With another vampire, Emmett," Jasper pointed out. "What if Rose were human?"

"Oh," Emmett said, looking surprised now. "Wait, you're seriously going to try it while Bella's still human? I mean, I figured that you guys would go to the island, you'd change her at some point while you're there, and then you'd make things official _after_ that."

"She's insisting," I muttered grimly, though I was grateful that Emmett was surprised by the news of Bella wanting what she considered a "real" honeymoon; Alice had obviously told Jasper about Bella's intentions, and Carlisle and Esme both knew, but somehow it was comforting to learn that the whole family didn't know…yet. As soon as Emmett left my room of course, he was sure to tell Rosalie…assuming Rosalie hadn't guessed already. I sighed again and reminded myself that, for better or for worse, as a vampire, I couldn't actually die of embarrassment.

"Wow," Emmett said with a chuckle. "I guess I forget that all humans have hormones, even the quiet ones."

"Haven't you asked Carlisle about this?" Jasper said curiously, cutting me off before I could utter an irritable retort to Emmett's comment.

I sighed at the thought of approaching Carlisle with this subject again. "Talking to you two is embarrassing enough. Of course he said that I'll have to be careful, though we both knew that I knew that already, but I wasn't about to ask him for…specifics."

Emmett snorted with laughter again, but he nodded. "Understood. I'll always be grateful that he never tried to give me any kind of 'talk' before Rose and I got married. Well, I guess all I can say is go really, really slow. I mean, it won't be much fun for you, but since killing Bella wouldn't be fun either, you'd better just concentrate on making her happy and keeping her alive instead of…well, _enjoying _yourself the first time."

I nodded. "All right, that was a more helpful remark than what I was expecting. What else?"

"All the emotions involved are really powerful, so it would be very easy for you to get carried away," Jasper said quietly, his expression serious. "It's a very intense experience, almost as powerful as bloodlust, and in some ways more powerful, I suppose. Just be careful that you never forget how easily you could kill her. If you feel yourself starting to lose control, then rip the blankets or smash the bed frame or something. Anything other than Bella."

"Hey, yeah," Emmett said suddenly. "Think of it as being similar to resisting her blood. I mean, you'll have to do that too, but maybe concentrating on that will remind you to resist doing anything that could shed any of her blood."

"Emmett," Jasper said wearily, "you do realize that's impossible, don't you?"

Emmett thought for a moment, then snickered. "Oh, that's right. You're _both_ virgins. Yikes. Well, good luck with that."

"Thanks so much," I said, putting my head in my hands. I remembered how Carlisle had reacted when, with more than a little trepidation, I'd first broached the subject of Bella's request to him.

"Obviously, Bella trusts you implicitly, Edward," he'd said gently. "I think we all believe that you're worthy of that trust. Now you just have to believe it yourself. It will be difficult, but I know you two will be all right." That had been that, as far as Carlisle was concerned, and I'd wondered for the thousandth time where all his confidence in me came from.

Embarrassing though it had been, I couldn't help but think that my little talk with Emmett and Jasper might have actually contained some helpful bits of advice, most of them, predictably, provided by Jasper. I would review it later though. At that moment, I was trying to imagine making the subject of our conversation a reality…and then shuddering with a mixture of nerves and anticipation at the very thought.


	198. Uncertain

Hello again and happy Mischief Night! (This chapter has nothing to do with Halloween though—sorry). Today's last chapter is about Esme, and her first few days with Edward and Carlisle. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday with two new chapters! (By the way, after this one, all chapters for the next three weeks will be set during or just before "Breaking Dawn." :))

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 18 DAYS! AHHHHHHHHHHH! :)

_1921_: Uncertain

Esme's POV

During her first few days in Carlisle Cullen's house, Esme rarely spoke. She was, in part, in a state of shock after the death of her son, but it also seemed so impossible that she should suddenly find herself in the home of the very man she'd been dreaming about for all these years. It was like some kind of strange cosmic joke: she'd lost the person who mattered most to her, but now she was living her fantasy. It was almost too much to wrap her head around.

Carlisle and Edward Cullen were both very kind, though Edward, for the most part, gave her a wide berth. She understood that her thoughts troubled him, but Carlisle too seemed distressed when he found her sitting silently in her room, staring at the wall. He hid his unease well, but Esme knew that he wished he could help her. However, he seemed to accept the fact that hers was a grief that he couldn't understand, having never been a mother, and so he didn't try to comfort her, but often simply sat silently beside her when she was inclined to sit, still as a stone, and try not to feel anything. He seemed to realize that there was no reaching her in those hours of stunned silence, and if she hadn't loved Carlisle already, she would have loved him for that understanding.

As it was though, his kindness and acceptance only served to further confuse Esme. He'd explained that he'd found her dying in the morgue, and that he'd changed her because there had been no hope of saving her life. That much Esme understood. But how was a vampire supposed to relate to the vampire that had made them? How should she see Carlisle? And how did he see her? What were they to each other?

Though Esme wanted nothing more than to grieve in peace those first few days, her thirst denied her that. Every few hours, the burning in her throat would become unbearable, and then Esme would force herself to move. Whenever she stood up and looked outside, Carlisle would offer to take her hunting, and Esme would always accept, because the thirst that gnawed at her was so terrible that it was almost enough to make her forget her sorrow, if only temporarily.

"How can you stand it?" she asked him one morning while they buried the remains of a bobcat. She'd been a vampire for not quite a week, and Esme was still shocked that in just a few days, the focus of her life had narrowed to admit little but her grief for her son and her all-consuming thirst.

"I know it's hard now," Carlisle said gently, not having to ask what she meant. "But the more you hunt, the better you'll feel. The first few months are the worst, but if you keep hunting every day, your thirst won't seem so bad after a few weeks."

Esme nodded, unconvinced. It was hard to imagine a point in her life when she wouldn't be ruled by her thirst and her sorrow. Still, talking to Carlisle really did seem to help, if only because he distracted her from the struggles she faced in her new life, and for the first time in days, Esme suddenly felt curious.

"I've been meaning to ask you this," she said abruptly. "Would you like me to do anything around the house? I mean, obviously I can't very well cook for you and Edward, but I could clean and do the laundry to earn my keep, if you'd like. I'm sorry I didn't bring this up before, but I…well, I'm not really sure what you and Edward expect of me, or if you mind me staying with you like this."

Esme wasn't sure if she imagined it or not, but she thought she saw Carlisle wince slightly. "No, Esme, you don't have to work to stay with us, and I'm sorry you thought you might have to. Edward and I take turns cleaning, though since we never shed any hair or dead skin, the house never gets very dirty, and laundry isn't a problem—one of our neighbors runs a small laundry service out of her home. In any case, we rarely get clothes dirty, unless we're careless when we hunt, or if something unexpected happens to me at work."

"I can do the laundry," Esme said firmly. Now that she knew she didn't have to, the chore seemed like a welcome diversion. "Please, I know you'll need to go back to work in another day or so, and Edward is at school all day, so I'll need something to keep me occupied when I'm on my own. Even just doing my own laundry would at least give me something to do other than…"

Esme stopped herself. She'd done little the past few days but wallow in sorrow, and all of a sudden, the thought of doing something as mundane as laundry seemed like a welcome change. Given her recent preoccupation with thirst and the loss of her son, it surprised Esme that she was even able to think of anything else. Now, suddenly she was worried. What would she do, and where would she go if Carlisle told her now that he didn't mean for her to live with them long term, and that this was only a temporary arrangement?

Carlisle looked uncomfortable and thoroughly unhappy. "Really, Esme. You don't have to do anything like that if you don't want to, and you're certainly more than welcome to stay with us for as long as you'd like. Edward's lived with me since I found him, and…and I'd like very much if you'd stay too. Of course, if you'd rather have your own home, I'd—"

"No," Esme said quickly. "Thank you, but I'll stay."

Carlisle smiled at her then, his expression one of subdued joy, as if he wasn't sure that he should let her see how relieved he was. "Good—I mean, thank you. I'm glad."

Esme felt the ghost of a smile pass across her face—when had she smiled last? As she looked ahead to the immediate future, just getting through the day seemed like an almost insurmountable task. The very thought of the potentially endless expanse of years stretching out before her made Esme feel almost dizzy with anxiety, but the thought of Carlisle moving through the forest beside her calmed her slightly. As uncertain as the life ahead of her seemed just then, Esme knew without a doubt that no matter what the future held, she wanted to face it with Carlisle. In the midst of so much uncertainty, that at least was something she felt sure of.


	199. Human

Hi everyone! Sorry for updating a day late, but I had to work Saturday, so Sunday ended up being pretty busy. Today's first chapter is about Bella's life the last few weeks before the wedding, and how though she'd want to relish the end of her human life, she'd also find herself spending more and more time with her future vampire family. Also, after examining my story notes, I see that I have twelve "Breaking Dawn" chapters planned, not just seven, so starting today, you're getting at least one chapter every day until "Breaking Dawn" is released! (Ah, I can't believe how close it is already!) Thanks as always for all your great reviews, and I'll see you again with another chapter a little later today. (I'm planning to post two today and two next Sunday ).

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 10 DAYS! AHHHHHHH!

_2006_: Human

Bella's POV

It was almost August, and as I tried not to count how many days were left before the wedding, I thought about everything that had happened this summer, my last human summer, and how I wanted to remember everything, good and bad. Since Edward and I had agreed to let Alice take care of everything to do with our wedding, I was trying not to think about the complexity or scale of the plans that my maid of honor had in mind. Instead, Edward and I spent every day together, and though we never talked about it, I think we were both trying to savor what we both thought of as the final weeks of my human life.

In spite of how much had changed in the past year, this summer was a lot like our last summer together: we often spent our days (weather permitting) in the meadow, in Charlie's yard or the Cullens', just sitting and talking or reading to each other. On other days, we'd take a trip, to Port Angeles usually, but Charlie finally allowed us to go to Seattle, ostensibly so I could look at wedding stuff with Alice. We went to museums, parks, theaters, and of course bookstores; I hadn't gotten much reading done since I'd met Edward, but I was quietly stocking up on books anyway. It was one of my small strategies for preparing for my life as a vampire, since I knew, from conversations with Edward and the rest of his family, that when I no longer had to sleep, I'd have more time for everything I liked to do, though I figured for the first few years of our life together, I was going to be more focused on drinking blood than taking walks with Edward or reading Shakespeare.

No matter where we went or what we did during those wonderful, though nerve-wracking weeks of anticipation, I constantly found myself trying to memorize things: the way I felt when I hurried to my ridiculous new car, my heart beating fast and my skin suddenly chilled by the rain; how I loved the warmth of the sun and the way it looked to my human eyes when it danced off Edward's skin; how it felt to take a breath and feel my lungs expand with air, my pulse beating in my veins and how, though it was almost imperceptible, my body kept changing, aging, growing, though only for a little while longer. Though Renée wanted to take me to get my hair styled before the wedding, I'd already decided not to let anyone cut off any of my hair—I knew that once Edward changed me, it would never grow again, and I liked it long. Now that I was fairly certain I'd be a vampire before I turned nineteen, I was less worried about aging now than I'd once been, but I still relished the thought of finally being Edward's equal. When I was a vampire, he could stop worrying about me being so breakable, and I could stop worrying about growing old and changing into someone he couldn't love in the same way anymore. The wedding was just a few weeks away, and after that, it wouldn't be long before we were finally, _really_ together forever.

One afternoon, I was lying on a blanket in the Cullens' backyard, wearing shorts and a bathing suit and just enjoying the rare sunshine while Edward sat in the shade beside me, when I caught myself trying not to count how much time was left until August 18th. It was almost noon on the twenty-third of July, so…

"You're thinking about it again," Edward said knowingly.

"How can you tell?" I said, feigning innocence.

"You get that little crease between your eyebrows when you start to worry about it," Edward said, smiling gently at me. "Come on. Let's do something to take your mind off the event which will not be named."

I almost grinned at the possibilities, but then I remembered that we were visible from the Cullens' house, and decided I wasn't thrilled by the mental image of Emmett pointing at us and laughing while we kissed, though Emmett wasn't even home. Still, I didn't really need Carlisle and Esme to see us—enough people would have to see us kiss at the wedding.

"Let's go for a swim then," I said, pulling off my shorts. Alice had only recently convinced me to finally try wearing a bikini, and though I liked how it looked, I still felt a little awkward wearing so little clothing. Still, it was a warm day, and I reveled in the feeling of cold water rushing over my feet as I stepped into the river. After just a few seconds of wading into the shallows though, I winced, and then tried not to groan as I bent to examine my foot.

"What is it?" Edward said, already beside me, looking concerned.

"I think I cut my foot on a rock or something," I said, and before I could even turn to hobble back toward shore, Edward had picked me up and was carrying me to dry land. We both stared at the cut on the side of my foot—it looked like I'd stepped on a sharp rock or piece of glass, and now a substantial but not quite alarming amount of blood was streaming onto the grass.

"Ugh," I said, looking away. "You know, when it comes to things like this, I think I have more than my fair share of bad luck."

"We're lucky Carlisle has the day off," Edward said, striding quickly back to the house. "It doesn't look serious, but Alice will kill both of us if you have to limp down the aisle."

I shuddered at the thought. "We're _really_ lucky that she and the others are in Vancouver for the day. No one has to suffer through the smell of this but you, Carlisle, and Esme."

When we got inside, Carlisle already had some first aid supplies laid out on the kitchen table—clearly, he'd seen us coming. Esme was standing by the stove, waiting to take something out of the oven and looking worried. She was obviously holding her breath, just to be safe.

"I stepped on something sharp in the river," I said before they could ask. "Honestly though, I think we're both more worried about Alice's wrath than my foot at this point."

Carlisle chuckled. "I'll take a look and clean it up—you should be up and walking fine by the time she gets home to survey the damage."

"What's on the menu today?" Edward asked, looking at Esme, who finally inhaled now that Carlisle was spraying disinfectant on my foot wound—the smell of blood still hung faintly in the air, but Carlisle was already covering the wound in a gauze pad and bandaging it.

"Meatloaf," Esme said. "I called Renée and got her mother's recipe, Bella."

"Wow, thanks," I said, sniffing the air appreciatively. "You know, you really don't have to keep doing this every day, Esme."

"You know I enjoy it, and besides, Alice is insisting," Esme said with a smile. Then she gave me a more serious look. "According to her, you've lost some weight in the past year. We can't have you being too thin to fit into your wedding dress."

I sighed, but I couldn't help but smile at their concern. I've always been slim, but while Edward was gone, I had lost a few pounds. It wasn't as though I'd stopped eating completely—those months were such a blur though that I could only assume that, like everything else I did, I'd eaten with a kind of zombie-like indifference.

I still didn't really like to think about those months without Edward, so instead I watched Esme take the meatloaf out of the oven while Carlisle finished bandaging my foot. For the past few weeks, Esme had been making my favorite foods for lunch whenever Edward and I were at the Cullens' place, and though she always made more than I could eat, Charlie was happy to have such good leftovers, and I knew that Esme was happy to see me enjoying what she cooked. Rather than really being worried about my weight though, I knew that Esme was more concerned with me enjoying the foods I loved as a human before I wouldn't want them anymore.

"Eat up, honey," Esme said with a smile, setting a plate down in front of me just as Carlisle finished with the bandage.

"No stitches needed today," he said cheerfully. "Keep this cut clean and the gauze changed, and you should be completely healed in a few days.

"Thanks," I said, picking up my fork. "I bet you're not going to miss doing this sort of thing on your day off, are you?"

Carlisle shrugged, and Edward tensed very slightly beside me—he'd promised that he'd change me after we were married, but he didn't like to think about his promise. "I don't mind, Bella. However, it does rather comfort me when I think of how I've never met any accident-prone vampires."

"That's a relief," I said, trying not to cringe at the thought of bringing my clumsiness with me into my new life.

As I sat in the kitchen, eating delicious food while surrounded by people I loved and who loved me, I couldn't help but feel a little sad. As eager as I was to begin my immortal life with Edward, and as grateful as I was for my new family, there was so much about my current life that I was going to miss (clumsiness, of course, excluded). Though I tried not to think about it, it was impossible not to wonder: how much of this day would I even remember when I was no longer human?


	200. Best

Hi again and Happy Tuesday! Wow, Chapter 200 sort of snuck up on me; I can't believe that I've been writing "Eternity" since 2009. (Somehow, that seems like a really long time ago). Thanks so much to all of you for following "Eternity" for all this time, and please continue to follow this story for as long as you're interested in little vignettes about Carlisle and Esme and the rest of the Cullens! :)

Today's chapter is a reader request: it's about Edward asking Carlisle to be his best man. Please note that the "Breaking Dawn" chapters that I'll be posting over the next ten days might be a little shorter than my usual chapters, but they're all scenes from "Breaking Dawn" that I've wanted to explore for a long time now. By the way: whenever I make a mistake, history-wise, please let me know—I won't consider it a flame. The fact is, now that I'm working full time, I just don't have as much time to fact-check chapters as I used to, so let me know if you think something's a bit off. (It might take me a while to get around to making changes, but I really do consider and appreciate comments when I think about going back and revising chapters—I know that chapter #191 needs some work :)). Thanks again for your really thoroughly wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow (and every day for the next 10 days) with a new chapter! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 9 MORE DAYS! SO EXCITING! :)

_2006_: Best

Carlisle's POV

One rainy night, Carlisle returned home from work and found Edward waiting for him in the living room.

"Hi," Carlisle said, surprised. "Why aren't you with Bella?"

"She's asleep," Edward explained dryly. "It is four in the morning."

"True," Carlisle said, glancing at his watch. "I was so swamped all evening that I never even looked at a clock until I left work. Alice called me on the way home—apparently, we're all going to get fitted for our suits for the wedding next week. Anyway, did you need to talk to me?"

"Yes," Edward said slowly, glancing at Carlisle and looking away, almost nervously. "I…would you be my best man at the wedding?"

Carlisle stared at him, stunned, and then, with a grin, caught Edward in a fierce hug before Edward could protest. "Of course, Edward. I'd love to."

"Thanks," Edward said, looking surprisingly relieved. "I wasn't sure…"

"You thought I might say no?" Carlisle wondered.

"No, not exactly," Edward said with a shrug. "I just never asked anything like this before."

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" Carlisle asked. "Emmett or Jasper—"

"Are my brothers," Edward said, nodding, "but you've been my father and one of my dearest friends for almost a century now. I wouldn't want anyone but you to do it."

Carlisle struggled to control the emotion in his voice. "…thank you, son. I'd be honored to be your best man."

Edward grinned, obviously trying to lighten the mood. "Well, I was your best man, after all. It only seems fair."

Just then, the kitchen door opened and closed, and Esme hurried in, looking excited. "Did you finally ask him?" she said to Edward.

Edward looked surprised. "I…how did you know I was going to…"

Esme rolled her eyes and squeezed Carlisle's hand. "Edward, I don't have to be able to read minds to know what you're thinking sometimes. I was just out hunting with the others because I thought you might finally as him if you had the place to yourselves."

Edward shook his head. "You're scary sometimes, you know."

"Mothers don't need special powers for that," she said, winking at him and then kissing Carlisle happily. "And did you said yes?"

"Of course," he said, grinning. "But I was surprised to be asked."

"Only because you're almost alarming humble," Esme said, shaking her head. "Honestly, I can't see why you'd be surprised, or why you were nervous about asking, Edward."

Edward shrugged sheepishly, "I suppose I could have asked Alice, but that seemed like cheating somehow. Normally, people don't know what the response to a request like this is going to be. It seemed more…real, or honest maybe, to ask without knowing the answer beforehand. Anyway, I hear everyone else coming back, so I think it's time I went back to Bella's before my siblings can interrogate me."

Carlisle nodded—this seemed like the sort of situation perfectly suited to Emmett's love of good-natured teasing. "We'll see you later then, son."

"Bye, honey," Esme said, kissing him on the cheek before Edward slipped out the front door. As soon as she turned back to Carlisle, she kissed him and grinned again.

"I get the feeling you're as happy about this as I am," Carlisle said, grinning in return—he just couldn't seem to stop smiling somehow.

"I'm happy, but I'm not surprised. Come on," Esme said, pulling him upstairs to their room, and Carlisle quickly followed. Alice had doubtless seen what had just happened before it had happened, but that didn't mean she wouldn't want to talk about it if she found her parents downstairs.

"How long have you been expecting this, anyway?" Carlisle asked, shutting the door behind them.

"I think that he's been meaning to ask you practically since Bella agreed to marry him, and I'm glad he finally took the opportunity tonight," Esme said fondly. "Honestly, you can both be so shy about things sometimes—it's very sweet, but in this case, I was starting to get impatient."

"But how could you be so sure that he'd ask me?" Carlisle persisted. He was still smiling, thoroughly surprised and pleased by Edward's request.

"You're his best friend," Esme said simply, smiling up at him. "Well, after Bella."

"And he's mine," Carlisle said, leaning down to kiss her. "After you."


	201. Relatives

Hi everyone! Today's chapter takes place just before the wedding, and it concerns Emmett and his probable delight at meeting his human in-laws—I think that considering how amused Emmett is by Bella, he'd find Charlie and Phil pretty funny too. Thanks once again for your reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow with another "Breaking Dawn" chapter. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 8 DAYS! :)

_2006_: Relatives

Emmett's POV

A couple of hours before the wedding, Emmett was standing in the kitchen with Jasper, Carlisle, Phil and Charlie, all of whom were half watching TV while Esme took Renée on a tour of the house and handled last minute details. Charlie seemed more than a little tense, and Emmett couldn't help but feel sorry for him; not only was his only daughter about to get married, he was stuck in a room with three vampires and his ex-wife's husband. The whole thing must be more than a little uncomfortable for him.

"Seriously?" Phil said incredulously. "None of you guys played any sports when you were in high school? None at all?"

"Nope," Emmett said regretfully. "We wanted to, but we couldn't. I've got this rare heart condition, so I can't do any strenuous exercise."

Phil stared at Emmett skeptically, and Emmett tried not to grin—his muscular build certainly made the "no strenuous exercise" claim seem ridiculous.

"Emmett's been lifting weights for a few years now, since we found out sports wouldn't be a good idea," Carlisle broke in easily. "Exercise like that seems to be all right, provided he only uses small weights."

"I do a lot of reps," Emmett explained, allowing himself a small grin now, and Phil nodded, looking mostly convinced.

"That's really too bad though," Phil said. "I mean, you've got the perfect build for football."

Emmett nodded, trying not to smile at the image of himself easily beating an entire human football team. "Yeah, I played a little in middle school, until we found out about the heart thing."

"Isn't there any way to treat it?" Phil wondered.

"Surgery might be a possibility, once Emmett stops growing," Carlisle said. "It's a bit risky though."

"I'm waiting until I'm done with college to seriously consider it," Emmett explained, trying to look like the responsible, dutiful son of a doctor instead of his usual indestructible and largely carefree self.

"What about you, Jasper?" Charlie said, and Emmett turned away to hide his smile; it was really impressive actually, the way Charlie and Phil were overcoming their instinctual fear to make small talk with three vampires. Of course, under the circumstances, they could explain away their nerves by attributing them to the upcoming wedding, and Jasper's calming influence certainly helped too.

"Edward and I both have asthma," Jasper explained smoothly. "It was much worse when we were younger, and things have improved since we moved to Forks, but we still don't like to take chances."

"Still, softball might be okay," Phil said eagerly. "We should put a team together and play, if not this time then the next time Renée and I come to visit."

Emmett grinned openly now, imagining how Bella's stepdad would react if he ever saw any Cullen really play ball. "Yeah," he said. "That sounds like fun."

Carlisle shot Emmett a warning look. "I'm fairly certain that Alice would be less than thrilled if we did anything like that in tuxedos. Maybe we can try tomorrow, weather permitting."

"Oh yeah," Phil said, glancing outside at the sky. It wasn't raining at the moment, but the clouds in Forks almost always looked vaguely threatening. "That could be a problem. I don't know how you guys stand this weather."

"How much time left before the ceremony?" Charlie asked.

Carlisle looked at his watch. "We still have ninety minutes before it starts."

Charlie sighed. "This whole summer seemed to go by so fast. Strange how the last few hours seem to be moving so slowly."

"Time is relative," Carlisle said with a slight shrug. "Up until now, there's always been something to do to get ready for today. Now there's nothing left to do but wait."

Emmett carefully turned a snicker into a cough. Of course, Charlie couldn't know how much experience Carlisle had had over the centuries with waiting, and that it wasn't just a platitude to him; time really was relative to a vampire. As if he could guess what Emmett was thinking, Carlisle glanced at him and rolled his eyes, obviously bemused by his own remark.

"Good thing the wedding's inside," Phil said, glancing out at the sky again. "It's starting to clear up, but every time I've said that since we got here, it's started raining five minutes later."

"It should be clear this afternoon, but we can move the reception inside if need be," Carlisle said easily, and Emmett admired his practiced grace at reassuring jittery humans while making it seem as if he were only making polite conversation. Just then, Jasper, who was leaning against the counter next to Emmett, slipped him something inconspicuously. It was a sticky note, torn from the pad that Esme had placed by the phone for appearances' sake, since they'd be having human guests today. On it, Jasper had scribbled the words,

_At the reception, do you think the happy couple are going to do the garter bit?_

It was all Emmett could do to stifle an explosive guffaw. As it was, he had to cover his mouth, and he shook with suppressed laughter for nearly a minute, all the while being careful not to look at Jasper. He knew that if he met his brother's eyes, he wouldn't be able to contain himself.

When the urge to laugh hysterically had finally passed, Emmett realized that Phil was still contemplating the softball game idea, wondering if there was a sporting goods store in town where they could get some equipment. He seemed to think that since the younger Cullens were under drinking age, it would be good for them to have something entertaining to do after Edward and Bella left for their honeymoon. The adults present would be able to occupy themselves with the buffet and the open bar, but clearly, Phil knew that typical teenagers would want more in the way of post-wedding festivities than free refreshments. Emmett liked that about Phil; he seemed like a fun guy, and he wanted other people to have fun as well. Renée too was, in Emmett's opinion, surprisingly fun-loving for someone so closely related to Bella. It wasn't that Bella was boring exactly—she just tended to be fun by accident rather than on purpose.

"Sounds like fun," Jasper said, all the while subtly deflating Phil's interest in his idea, "but I'm fairly certain that Alice will cheerfully murder all of us if we do anything today that isn't part of her itinerary."

"Just to be safe, we'd better stick to just watching baseball instead of trying to play tonight," Emmett said, grabbing the remote and turning up the volume on the game as the Mariners made a double play. Almost automatically, Charlie and Phil both shifted their attention to the TV, Charlie at least seeming grateful for a distraction now that the wedding was imminent. As they all stood and watched the game (or pretended to watch), Carlisle nodded at Jasper and Emmett, clearly grateful that they'd ended the conversation with their guests.

Emmett's smile faded when he considered the fact that they needed to keep their distance from Charlie and Phil; though it was fun to imagine it and even joke about it, they could never really have a game of baseball together—after today, they might never even see the two humans again, and that would be for the best. That way, Bella's human family would be spared having to face the threat of the Volturi. Even if it was only for today though, Emmett was determined to have a good time with both his human and vampire relatives. With a grin, Emmett wondered if he could conspire to provide his new in-laws with some extra champagne later; that might be entertaining…


	202. Satisfied

Hi everyone! Today's chapter concerns Alice's feelings during the wedding reception; I imagine she'd really enjoy watching everyone having a good time. Thanks once again, really and truly, for all your reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is of course the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 7 MORE DAYS! :)

_2006_: Satisfied

Alice's POV

In spite of Bella's worries, the dancing part of the reception went off without a hitch: she and Charlie were an awkward pair, but neither of the fell down or stepped on the other's toes, and once her dance with Charlie was over, Bella danced with Edward, then Carlisle, Emmett, and Jasper before returning to her new husband—Alice knew that as long as Bella was dancing with a vampire, there was no danger of any waltzing-related mishaps. Meanwhile, Alice took turns dancing with her husband, father, and brothers, including Edward, who seemed incapable of doing much but grinning in Bella's general direction whenever they were apart.

"Thank you, Alice," he said quietly while they moved together. "This is…perfect. Not just for us, but for everyone."

Alice smiled a little sadly when she caught a glimpse of Charlie dancing with Sue Clearwater, and Renée holding hands with Phil. "It can't be perfect really, given what has to happen next, but I'm glad you're happy, Edward."

It was a mark of how genuinely content Edward was that even a reminder of Bella's looming change to immortality didn't dampen his spirits. "Bella was right. Since she's determined to say goodbye, this way really does seem best."

Alice smiled more cheerfully now. "You're right. They'll always be able to remember tonight, and how happy she was…"

_No__ matter __what __happens __next_, Alice thought, frowning. The future was blank at the moment, thanks to Seth Clearwater's attendance at the reception, but now Alice wondered if he was the only wolf who would be making an appearance tonight.

"Who knows?" Edward said lightly, his expression still serene and happy, though his face grew a bit serious when he really stopped to consider the idea. "I wouldn't mind if he came, to be honest. Bella would be happy to see Jacob one more time."

"Hmm," Alice said noncommittally, watching a little warily when Bella took a turn dancing with Phil, but she relaxed as soon as the bride was back with Edward, twirling happily past the table that held the now mostly eaten wedding cake. Jasper moved over to her then, having just danced with Tanya, and as they smiled at each other, Alice caught a glimpse of Carlisle and Esme whirling past them.

"They're having fun," she said, smiling when she saw how close the two of them held each other, as if they were the only people on the dance floor.

"Everyone is," Jasper pointed out with a smile, and Alice grinned. She'd never planned a wedding that involved so many human guests before, and it was gratifying to see how humans and immortals alike seemed to be enjoying the festivities. A few yards away, Bella's human friends were enjoying what was left of the hors d'oeuvres, and Carmen, giving Eleazar a playful smile, popped a piece of food into his mouth before he could duck out of the way. He smiled, then disappeared to discreetly dispose of the food. Rosalie had already played the same trick on Emmett, who was lurking near the buffet table while Rosalie chatted with Kate and Tanya—obviously, he was waiting for his chance to retaliate.

"The bride and groom, you'll be happy to know, are almost incandescently happy," Jasper said, and Alice moved as close as she could to him while retaining enough mobility to dance.

"I could already guess that, just by how happy you seem," she said with a fond smile. "Would you be happy anyway now, even if it weren't for the general festive mood?"

"Of course," Jasper said, giving her a quick kiss. "Even if it is only a vicarious thrill, I always take pleasure in your successes."

Alice laughed. "Don't declare this event a success just yet," she said. "So far, the little werewolf boy is behaving himself, but I don't think he's the only one of Bella's furry friends who's here tonight."

Jasper nodded, his expression serious. "Emmett said he thought he smelled something. We're keeping an eye on things."

Alice sighed. "I'm sorry Irina isn't here, but if she _had_ come, things might have gotten ugly. And you look far too handsome tonight to get all disheveled breaking up a fight."

Jasper grinned down at her. "According to Emmett, you threatened to behead him if he messed up his tuxedo tonight."

Alice shrugged unrepentantly. "Well, the threat of decapitation seems to have worked, don't you think? So far, he's stayed relatively neat, though Rose managed to smear some cake frosting on his sleeve, just to annoy me…"

Jasper chuckled, and then he slowed their progress. "Carlisle and Esme are taking a break, so we probably should too."

Alice nodded and followed him to the table designated for the family. All the while, she looked around and smiled approvingly at her handiwork: the decorations were festive without being gaudy, the food was clearly tasty without being too rich, given the quantities she'd seen being consumed by human guests, and Bella and Edward both looked radiantly happy. That was what mattered most today, and seeing them so contented and in love made Alice grateful for the care she'd taken in planning this. They might have other weddings, as Emmett and Rosalie had, but they would never have another wedding quite like this one, with both their families present and Bella's heart still beating...

"Alice, everything's been wonderful today!" Esme said, setting down the water glass she'd been pretending to drink from.

"Of course," Alice said easily. "Between you, me, and Renée, how could things fail to go well?"

"Speaking of Renée, here she comes now," Esme said, smiling easily at Bella's mother and rising to give her a hug. Renée, though she'd hugged both Alice and Esme several times that day, always somehow failed to notice the unnatural chill of their skin, or if she'd noticed, she wasn't unnerved by it. As she too gave Bella's mother a hug, Alice was amused by the fact that Renée seemed to share her daughter's eerie tolerance for vampires.

"Oh, Alice, everything's perfect!" Renée gushed, her eyes filled with happy tears.

"I was just saying that too," Esme said with a grin. "I mean, you and I helped out, Renée, but Alice was the real mastermind of all this."

"Absolutely!" Renée agreed firmly. "Promise me you're going to major in event planning or hospitality management or whatever it's called when you get to college."

Alice smiled modestly. "I promise, and thank you. I'm just so glad everyone's enjoying themselves."

"I don't think I've ever seen Bella so happy," Renée said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

"Edward either," Esme said, putting an arm around her new friend.

Alice grinned. "As long as they're happy, I'm satisfied."


	203. Terror

Happy Friday, everyone! Today's chapter focuses on Jasper when Alice first realizes that something's distorting her view of Bella's future. Thanks again for your reviews, thanks to Stephenie Meyer for a couple of lines of dialogue in this chapter that are from "Breaking Dawn," and I'll see you again tomorrow (and I'll be saying that every day for the next week, but still, I guess it bears repeating :)).

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 6 MORE DAYS! (I can't believe that this time next week, I'll have seen "Breaking Dawn"! So exciting! :))

_2006_: Terror

Jasper's POV

"I like your earrings, by the way," Jasper said, nodding at the clip-on fangs dangling from Alice's earlobes.

"Thanks," Alice said, turning and smiling at him briefly before going back to staring at the ceiling, her expression one of uneasy preoccupation. She'd been like this all morning, though when Jasper thought about it, she'd been frowning with unusual frequency for the past day or so. A little while ago, when she'd seemed more relaxed, she'd turned and kissed him, and that had led to other things, but now they were in their bed, listening to the rain fall outside, and Alice both looked and felt troubled again. She was concentrating on something, but she wouldn't say what it was, or why it required so much thought.

Without warning, Alice leapt out of bed. All at once, she was almost frantic.

"What is it?" Jasper said, her unease propelling him to rise and dress while Alice did the same.

"I don't know," she said, her voice low and urgent. "That's the problem. I need to call Edward, now."

Jasper followed Alice out of their room and down the stairs as she put her phone to her ear and listened impatiently as it rang—clearly, in her agitation, she wanted to have room to pace.

"He might just be away from his phone," Jasper said, trying to soothe her, but Alice shook her head, frowning.

"It's something else," she said, wincing slightly and putting a hand to her head. Immediately, Jasper was at her side—his concern and hers were now merging, becoming an intense dread that was hard to control.

"Alice, what is it? What's wrong?"

"A few minutes ago, I could see Bella, and now, I…can't," Alice explained, shaking her head and glaring at the phone. "For the past couple of days, it's like there's been something sort of…flickering around her, making her hard to see sometimes. Now I—Bella? Bella, are you okay?"

Jasper listened uneasily as Alice and Bella exchanged a few terse sentences.

"Is Edward all right?" Alice asked. Then, facing away from the phone, she called, "Carlisle! Come downstairs for a minute, please!"

Jasper heard swift movement upstairs—Carlisle and Esme were moving around in their room.

"Why didn't he pick up the phone?" Alice asked, and Jasper wondered if Bella could hear the strain in her voice. He'd rarely seen Alice so disconcerted by a vision, or in this case, the lack thereof, and her tension made him jumpy.

"Bella, what's going on? I just saw—"

"What is it?" Carlisle asked quietly, joining them downstairs. Esme was right behind him, and Jasper noticed with faint amusement that they both had wet hair—they'd been in the shower.

"Here's Carlisle," Alice said, handing over the phone and giving Carlisle a bleak look.

Carlisle raised his eyebrows and spoke. "Bella, it's Carlisle. What's going on?"

Jasper turned his attention back to Alice then—she was staring at the floor, her expression one of intense concentration.

"What's going on?" Esme whispered. She was worried now too, and though Jasper tried to project calm, everyone in the room, himself included, was too tense for his efforts to make much difference. At least Rosalie and Emmett were out hunting; that made for two fewer people whose emotions he had to deal with.

"Something's wrong," Alice muttered, shaking her head and wincing again. Jasper put his arm around her anxiously—could she really be in pain?

"When was the first day of your last menstrual cycle?"

That question got everyone's attention—as Bella spoke, Carlisle's expression grew serious, then grave. He moved into the dining room as they continued to talk, and though the others could still hear him speaking, the implications of what they'd just heard were too incredible for anyone to keep silent about.

"Could she really be pregnant?" Esme wondered aloud, her voice almost awed.

"It's impossible," Jasper said incredulously. "How could—"

"Wait," Alice hissed. "Maybe that's why I can't see her!"

"What?" Esme demanded. "Alice, what do you mean?"

"I can't see what's going to happen to Bella next!" Alice said desperately, running her hands through her hair. Jasper squeezed her shoulder, wanting to comfort her, but she shook him off and began to pace around the room, rubbing her temples as if doing so might clear her vision of the future. "When I try to focus on her, it's...it isn't the same as it is with the wolves exactly. I can sort of see her, except she's...blurry. There's something obscuring her, and whatever it is, I can't see it. Bella's so close to it though that if I try to look at her future, that thing gets in the way and makes my head hurt! It's like I'm straining my eyes, trying to see something that's too far away for me to make it out..."

The three of them stood in uneasy silence for several seconds as the potential implications of Alice's partial blindness sunk in.

"It makes sense, I suppose," Esme said softly, and Jasper could sense that she was trying to soothe Alice in spite of her own concerns. "A child of Edward and Bella's would be half human, half vampire. Maybe you can't see it for the same reason you can't see the wolves—because you've never been such a creature."

"I suppose you all heard at least part of that conversation," Carlisle said with a sigh, reentering the room. "They're coming home, but the earliest they'll get here is tomorrow..."

Carlisle sighed again, and Esme took his hand; his worried expression probably told her everything she needed to know, but still she said,

"Do you think a human has ever given birth to a half immortal child?"

"I don't know," Carlisle said with a frown. "I've never heard of such a thing. What worries me is the fact that the fetus seems to be growing so quickly. Bella's body..."

Carlisle trailed off, and Esme tensed beside him. Jasper sighed, and wished that he could calm everyone down a bit, but it was too difficult to do so, given the depth of the worry around him.

"You mean...she's in danger?" Esme whispered.

Carlisle nodded. "Almost certainly. I won't know what's really going on though, how fast the pregnancy is progressing, until I've examined her." Carlisle turned to Alice then, his expression grim. "Did I hear you right, Alice? You've been having trouble seeing Bella?"

Alice nodded miserably. "I'm sorry I didn't tell anyone, but frankly, it really scared me. It's been going on for a couple of days now. At first, it was just every once in a while, and my visions of her would sort of cut out, like static on an old TV. But then, earlier today, the blur around her grew again, and it got even harder to glimpse her at all. When it started to actually hurt to try and see her, I knew I had to call Edward."

Carlisle sighed at the mention of his eldest son. "As you can probably guess, Edward's frantic."

"Yeah, I had a vision of him a few minutes ago," Alice said, shaking her head. "That, combined with Bella disappearing on me, told me that something was wrong, but I never guessed..."

"Can you try to see her now?" Esme asked nervously. "How is she, or rather, how is she going to be?"

Alice concentrated for a moment, then winced and shook her head. "No good," she said grimly. "Blurry. I don't know what's going to happen next."

For a few moments, the four of them stood in silence. It had been a long time since any of them had had to live without knowing beforehand what an important part of the future was going to hold, and it was a distinctly uncomfortable feeling. This time, when Jasper put his hand on Alice's shoulder, she let him, and Alice in turn slipped her arm around his waist. Carlisle and Esme were standing close together too, and Jasper didn't have to ask to know that they were wondering the same things he was.

In hours, Edward and Bella would be home; normally, Jasper mused, a human pregnancy that occurred under circumstances such as these would be celebrated. But of course, Bella wasn't a normal young woman coming home from her honeymoon with a child on the way, and the child in question was no normal baby. What would a half-vampire infant even be like? Would it be more human than vampire, or would its father's genes make it a perpetually thirsty monster, an immortal child born instead of made? And regardless of the outcome, what if the Volturi were to visit during or immediately following Bella's pregnancy?

It was a lot to think about, and for now, they could only wait and worry. Though he knew that Alice was suffering, wishing that she could see what was coming, Jasper was almost relieved that she couldn't. Though everyone was obviously trying to control their fear, Jasper could feel it all around him now, and he knew that regardless of its true nature, as long as Bella's baby remained an unknown quantity, it would be a cause not for joy, but for terror.


	204. Guard

Hi again! Today's chapter concerns Rosalie's feelings about Bella's pregnancy. Thanks as always for your reviews and look for another new chapter tomorrow! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 5 MORE DAYS!

_2006_: Guard

Rosalie's POV

She and Emmett had been out hunting when Bella called. When Rosalie felt her phone vibrating, she'd stopped running—Emmett could just go ahead and win their silly impromptu race—and she'd been surprised to hear Bella's voice when she'd answered. In seconds, all of Rosalie's previous misgivings about Bella and her choices vanished—of course she would help her. It was Bella's child just as much as it was Edward's, and if she was determined to have it, then Rosalie would do anything to protect Bella and the growing baby, and to hell with Edward if he was so dead set against the creature before he even knew anything about it.

She'd heard Carlisle and Esme talking quietly the evening after Bella's pregnancy was first discovered, and though Rosalie had been by turns furious and hopeful as she'd listened, she could understand their concerns better than Edward's unfounded hatred and fear of his own child.

"The biggest problem, I think, is going to be getting to the fetus," Carlisle had said softly. "The placenta is likely to be a great deal stronger than a human's, and—"

"Carlisle, so far we've only heard Edward's side of this," Esme had pointed out. "Until we've heard it from Bella's lips, we can't just assume that she wants you to do anything but take care of her and the baby and deliver it whenever it arrives."

"But if it's really growing as quickly as it seems, this creature could kill her before it even comes to term."

"Just stop and think about this for a moment. It's _Edward__'__s_ child, remember? Knowing Bella, she won't want to give up such a thing, even if it means risking her life."

Carlisle had been silent for a moment. "You're absolutely right," he'd said at last. "If we can convince her of the danger though—"

"In the past, Bella's made a habit of showing less concern for her own wellbeing than Edward and the rest of us do," Esme had said gently, and Carlisle sighed.

"You're right again. We'll just have to wait until they get back to talk to them both before we decide what the best course of action is."

This conversation had given Rosalie a lot of food for thought, and as she crept back to her room, she'd begun to assess the potential obstacles that lay ahead. She told no one, not even Emmett, that she and Bella (and to a lesser extent, Esme) were all on the side of the baby that everyone else seemed so frightened of. That was why, when Rosalie and the others met Edward and Bella at the airport, everyone was so shocked when Bella raced into her arms.

"Bella?" Edward said incredulously.

"She called me and told me everything," Rosalie hissed, keeping her voice low so no nearby humans would overhear her. "And she wants to keep the baby. It's her decision, not yours."

"Rosalie," Edward said, his voice low and dangerous, "don't—"

"Edward, it's true," Bella said, quietly but firmly. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd try to talk me out of it, but you can't. He's ours, and I want to have him."

"Him?" Edward said incredulously. "Bella—"

Carlisle stepped between them then—he put one hand on Edward's shoulder and the other on Rosalie's. "Let's discuss this when we get home, all right? Bella, you and Edward can ride with Rosalie and Emmett. Alice and Jasper can come with us."

Bella smiled gratefully at Carlisle, while Edward still looked stunned. "Thanks," she said. "You'll examine me when we get back?"

"Of course," Carlisle said, giving the arm that Rosalie still had draped protectively over Bella's shoulder a thoughtful look. "It should be easy to gauge how you're doing so far without going to the hospital."

Rosalie smiled approvingly at that—of course, Carlisle was already in the process of turning his office into an operating room, but it wasn't ready just yet, and he wouldn't risk doing anything invasive without the proper equipment. Of course, Rosalie wasn't going to let things get that far, but it was good to know that Carlisle wasn't going to be as big an obstacle as he might have been. Ever since Esme had pointed out that Bella might want the baby and that it was her decision to make, Edward had lost an important ally. Rosalie still planned to watch him carefully, depending on how well Bella managed during the pregnancy, but Rosalie felt certain now that Carlisle would do nothing to harm the baby without Bella's consent. No, it was Edward who was his own child's worst enemy.

The car ride home was a tense affair—Emmett drove, Edward sat in the passenger seat, and Rosalie sat with Bella in the backseat. The mood now was very different from that of the last car trip the four of them had taken together, after Bella, Edward, and Alice had returned from Italy. Once again, Edward was furious with her, but somewhat ironically, this time it was because she was taking Bella's side, rather than mistakenly reporting that she was dead. Both Rosalie and Bella kept staring at the latter's stomach, and Rosalie grinned along with Bella every time the hand resting on her midsection twitched in response to a sensation beneath her skin—the baby was moving.

No one spoke, but while she and Bella quietly rejoiced at every movement of the tiny new life, Rosalie could feel Edward seething. Clearly, he didn't want to show Bella how angry he was, but he was obviously furious that she would, in his opinion, endanger herself for the sake of a monster. Under normal circumstances, Rosalie might have teased him about the very idea: what did it say about his self-esteem that he automatically assumed that any child of his would be some kind of horrible abomination? But because the situation was a reality, not just an idea, Rosalie felt nothing for Edward at the moment but fury—if he so much as lifted a finger against this baby, then she would rip it off, and tear apart the rest of him besides.

Poor Emmett looked grim—obviously he felt sorry for Edward, and Rosalie guessed that he wasn't thrilled about her keeping her new alliance with Bella a secret, but there it was. Rosalie knew that everything would be fine once the baby was born, and that even if Bella had to be changed immediately after the birth of her fast growing infant, Rosalie felt none of the unease that the pregnancy had occasioned in the others. She was confident that she could take of Bella—together, they would protect the baby, and soon, they would be a family of nine, not eight.

A baby…it would not be her own, but since it would be half vampire, it would be a baby that she could safely hold, that she could play with and help to raise and love. Rosalie knew that the others would think she was selfish, and that she was doing this more for the baby than for Bella, and maybe that was true. But she kept watching Bella's face as she gazed down toward her abdomen, and Rosalie knew from her expression that she and Bella were both doing this for the baby more than for themselves. Already, it mattered more to them both than anything else, and when Emmett finally pulled the car into the garage and turned off the engine, Rosalie took Bella's hand to lead her inside before Edward could even turn to face them. Regardless of their sometimes less than cordial past, Rosalie was determined to protect Bella and her baby no matter what. She would guard them from anything that might harm them…especially her brother.


	205. Panic

Happy Sunday, everybody! Today's chapter concerns Edward's feelings about Bella's pregnancy and how Carlisle and Esme might have tried to help him during those rare moments when he left Bella's side. Thanks once again for your reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 4 DAYS! :)

_2006_: Panic

Edward's POV

As soon as I realized that Bella seriously wanted to keep the baby, regardless of the risks, it wasn't long before I found myself putting most of my energy into concealing how afraid I was. At first, it was relatively easy to do so; Rosalie never seemed to leave Bella's side, so I was able to distract myself from fears about the future by thinking about how much I'd enjoy tearing my dear sister limb from limb. But as the days and weeks went by, the baby grew, and Bella seemed to grow thinner and weaker before my eyes. That was how my fear, which had been bad enough to begin with, gradually turned to blind panic.

It seemed inexplicable to me that she could actually care for the creature that was so obviously killing her—that she had cared for it from the beginning, and that she could continue to love it even as it ate away at her body. The fact that she actually seemed happy—nervous and sickly, but happy—frightened me more than anything, because every time I saw her smile down at her expanding stomach, I knew that she was willing to die for it…because it was _my_ child. I truly hated myself for what I'd done, but it became clear within the first few days after we came home that Bella didn't see things my way: she didn't blame me for what I'd done, and she wasn't going to be swayed in her decision to keep the monstrous infant growing inside her.

"I'm sorry," I said one morning, when it was just Bella, Rosalie and I sitting in the living room. At night, we slept up in my room, with Rosalie keeping a careful eye on me while I watched Bella sleep, a symptom of her newfound love of guard duty that I found less than endearing, but during the day, we mostly sat in the living room, where the others sometimes gathered around us too—there seemed to be little to do but wait and watch as the baby continued to thrive, while Bella dwindled and shrank. "This is my fault, I did this to you—"

"Edward, you didn't _do_ anything to me," Bella had said, but then she blushed when Rosalie snickered. "I mean, we did this together. I know we weren't planning on it, and that we didn't expect it could even happen, but now that it has, I'm glad. I never even knew that I might want to have a kid until I realized I was going to have one, and now he seems like the most amazing surprise ever. I know this little guy is growing pretty fast, but he's ours. Why are you so afraid of him?"

_Because__ I __can __see __what __he__'__s __doing __to __you, __and __I __know__ you__'__re __going __to __die_, I thought bleakly, turning my face away so she wouldn't see my expression. _You__'__re__ going__ to__ die__ because__ of __me,__ just__ as__ I__ always__ feared__ you__ would._

"It'll be okay," she'd whispered, running a hand through my hair as I knelt beside her. Though we couldn't read each other's minds, I knew that she could sense how half-crazed I was with fear and guilt. "I can do this. I know it."

Carlisle examined her every day, and though he'd been cautiously optimistic at first, if a little uneasy about the speed at which the fetus was growing, after a couple of weeks, his prognosis regarding Bella's condition had taken a decidedly fatalistic turn. Like me, he couldn't see how she could even survive for much longer if the baby continued to grow at its current rate and Bella was unable to get enough nutrients into her system. Esme tried to help out in the food department: during our first week back, she cooked all of Bella's favorite foods, trying to find something tempting enough for Bella to both eat and keep down. Though Bella was often hungry, eating inevitably led to throwing up. Esme tried making milder foods later, but even that didn't help much: oatmeal, cream of wheat, even just plain bread were all met with similarly discouraging results.

All the while though, Bella put a good face on things: she thanked Carlisle for taking care of her, thanked Esme for cooking for her, and apologized to all of us for worrying everyone, for being such a burden. Whenever she apologized for being so sick, I had to fight a powerful, if imagined urge to throw up myself. Given my emotional state and the fact that trying to see Bella in visions gave Alice a headache, she and Jasper kept their distance most of the time. So did Emmett, but I often heard him lurking nearby, ready to intervene if I tried to get Rosalie away from Bella. Though Emmett felt sorry for me, and sorry for Bella too really, he could see that Rosalie and Bella weren't going to budge on this; together, they were going to see to it that this baby was born, even if it was a monster. A monster just like me…

"Here," Esme said one afternoon, handing me a bowl. "Take her some soup. It's just chicken noodle, so maybe…"

Esme trailed off with a sigh and a sad half smile. Seeing my expression though, she frowned, took the bowl from me and placed it on the counter, and then she hugged me for a long time without saying anything. Esme always tried to keep a smile on her face when she was with Bella, and she tried to stay cheerful around the others too, but I knew from her thoughts that it was harder than she let on to watch us suffering like this. She knew she couldn't change anything, but she tried to make things easier for everyone by staying upbeat, or at least maintaining some semblance of optimism in the midst of this tragedy. I knew that Bella at least appreciated Esme's efforts at good cheer, but knowing what it cost Esme to smile then, I couldn't see my mother without feeling just that much more terrible about what I'd done.

It seemed impossible that our lives could have changed so much so quickly: a few weeks ago, everything had been so different. When Bella and I had left the house after the wedding, I'd never felt so happy, and in spite of my worries about the future, I'd never felt more hopeful. Ever since we'd come home though, the scope of all our lives seemed to have contracted into a series of painful moments, repeated over and over again: intense worry about Bella, fear at the thought of the child growing inside her, and unease about future, which I'd been foolish enough to feel hopeful about just weeks before. The very fact that Alice couldn't see what would happen next made me certain that what was coming couldn't be anything but horrible.

One afternoon, after Bella had fallen into a fitful doze on the couch, I stepped onto the back porch and just stared at the river without really seeing it. Carlisle was standing a few feet away—he'd tried to do an ultrasound earlier that day, but it hadn't worked, which discouraged him more than he wanted me to know. After a few minutes of silent contemplation, he came and stood next to me, putting a hand on my shoulder without speaking.

"I think a part of me keeps hoping that this is some kind of nightmare we'll all wake up from any moment now," I said at last.

"So do I," Carlisle admitted quietly. "That is, I keep hoping that something will finally change for the better—that we'll find something Bella can eat, that her overall health will improve…"

"But you don't think it's going to," I whispered. It wasn't a question.

Carlisle sighed. "I don't know what her chances are at this point, Edward, but I know what she'd determined to do. All we can do is keep an eye on her and care for her as best we can. Things look bad now, but if we can just find a way to keep her nourished, then I think she may be right: it's possible that she'll live long enough to give birth to the baby. As soon as she's given birth though—"

"I'll change her," I said, repeating the only hopeful mantra I'd been able to remotely believe in for weeks. "I'll change her while her heart's still beating, and then she'll be fine. She'll be safe and well again…if she lasts that long."

Carlisle squeezed my shoulder, and for a few seconds, we just listened to the tenuous sound of Bella's heart beating a few yards away.

"Don't give up, son," he said finally. "If anyone can survive a thing like this, it's Bella. You're both stronger than you know."

As Bella's abdomen expanded with the growing creature inside her, I kept wondering how much longer we could live like this: how much longer would Bella live at all, and how long could I keep a grip on my now fragile sanity? Could we really be as strong as Carlisle seemed to think? I knew that, for my part, I must be going mad, having to watch her endure so much pain, but I also knew that I had to control myself; I could never let on that rather than simply suffering, I felt like I was dying too. I _wished_ that I was dying too, and the thought that I could not sicken and die, that I would never waste away as she was now, that I would be unable to follow her into death, only added to my panic.


	206. Tips

Hi everyone! Today's chapter is about Bella and Esme discussing pregnancy, and the differences between their experiences as mothers-to-be. Thank you, thank you for all your reviews, and look for another chapter tomorrow. (Also, Happy Monday! :))

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and 3 DAYS! :)

_2006_: Tips

Bella's POV

Having honestly never really thought about having kids, let alone any child that was Edward's, I had a lot to think about while Rosalie and I sat together and watched the baby grow inside me. Rosalie, to my surprise, was an excellent nurse: she was patient, kind, and never got upset when I threw up on her, which happened more than once when she had to choose between dropping me or being puked on. At the back of my mind, our newfound friendship still shocked me a little, but most days, all I thought about was trying to eat, trying not to be sick, and trying not to move too much—already, the baby was heavy, and though I guessed that he was already stronger than me, I knew my body wasn't exactly the most secure place for him—given my innate clumsiness, the last thing either of us needed was for me to move around anymore than necessary.

Edward sat silently beside me most of the time. I tried to comfort him, but I mostly did so nonverbally. Talking didn't really help, because neither of us was going to change the other's mind, but I liked to hold his hand, stroke his hair, and imagine our baby looking exactly like him.

"I wish the ultrasound had worked," Rosalie said quietly one afternoon. I'd just woken up from a nap, and I remembered how, up in Carlisle's office, he'd used the machine in an attempt to get a look at the baby earlier that day. He and Edward were outside now, presumably talking about it, and I sighed at the thought of their having one more thing to worry about.

"Me too. I wish we could see him. Then everyone might be able to relax a little."

"We'd get to know if he was really a he or not too," Rosalie teased—my (in her view) 'irrational' certainty that the baby would be a boy amused her, but in a weird way, I was glad that someone was still at ease enough around me to joke about anything.

Esme came in then, bearing a tray that held a bowl of white rice and, to my surprise, a can of cola.

"I thought the bubbles might help your stomach," she explained. "And I read online that…well, if you drink some soda before you get sick, it's a little less unpleasant, either in taste or consistency, I'm not sure."

By now, I was basically resigned to the fact that I threw up most of what I ate. Still, the soda idea couldn't hurt to try, and the rice, which Esme had drizzled with a little soy sauce, was just the right mix of plain and salty to appeal to my weak stomach. I was really hungry, but as good as the rice tasted going down, I knew that it would probably be coming back to visit again soon.

"Thanks, Esme," I said, sipping at the pop. "Um..." I glanced toward the back porch, where I knew Edward was still standing, and I hoped that he and Carlisle were too distracted to listen to what I was about to say. Under normal circumstances, I would have asked my mom about this, but of course, things were anything but normal now. "I've been meaning to ask if you have any...tips...about what to do, I mean, to get ready for the baby..."

"Hey, that's right," Rosalie said, suddenly looking eager. "We should be asking you for advice."

Esme chuckled, though her smile was a little sad. "This baby seems to be very different from my own though. I'm not sure that what I went through when I was human really applies."

"Anything you can think of might help though," Rosalie persisted. "Just tell Bella what it was like for you when you were pregnant."

Esme looked thoughtful, and I straightened up to listen carefully; I'd never heard this story before.

"When I found out that I was going to have a baby," she said, "I left my husband that very day—I wasn't going to let him get near any child of mine. I took what little money I had hidden in the house, plus a few valuables I thought I could sell along the way, and then I left. I had a little trouble at first, since I'd never really traveled on my own, and it was hard to know who to trust, but eventually, I found my way to Ashland. Once I got there, I started telling people that I was a widow. I had an elaborate story made up to explain my husband's death, but no one ever asked me too many questions or seemed suspicious. I was surprised really, at how kind people were to me when they knew I had a baby on the way. In fact, I think the baby helped me get my job at the school; the man who hired me seemed to feel a little sorry for me. I was only a teacher's assistant of sorts, but I was glad to have a chance to work with children, and I was grateful that I didn't have a more physically demanding job."

I suddenly imagined having to be on my own while carrying this baby, having to work every day just to feed myself as Esme had, and I shuddered at the thought. Just being around other humans would be impossible for me in my current condition, given the fact that the baby was growing with such obvious swiftness, I could barely stand up, and, oh yeah, the whole throwing up thing.

"I suppose that getting enough rest became the most important thing as the months passed," Esme went on. "I always seemed to be tired. I tried to eat enough, but it could be hard to get the foods I really wanted—I craved the strangest things sometimes—but my landlady brought me food now and then, leftovers of things she'd cooked, and after the first few months, morning sickness wasn't a problem anymore. My back hurt a lot though, and my feet got a little swollen sometimes. And I was always on edge, wondering if my husband was going to find me, and imagining what he might do to me if he did. It was exciting to look forward to finally meeting my baby though; every day, I imagined what he, or she, might look like. I couldn't wait to meet him. Of course, giving birth itself was painful, but...well, it was worth it, in the end. All in all, it was probably the best and worst nine months of my human life."

I considered all this. "Okay, thanks," I said, trying to sound upbeat. "At least it seems like I'm not going to have to wait nine months to meet this little guy."

"You're probably right," Esme said, smiling faintly and touching the side of my face, obviously concerned. I must have looked a little green—my stomach was starting to hurt again. Esme and Rosalie and I all knew that this wasn't morning sickness, and that I had a lot more to worry about with this pregnancy than an aching back, swollen feet, and conventional human labor pains. This baby wasn't like Esme's, but still, it had been fun to pretend that things were normal for a few minutes. And when I considered Esme's story, at least no one could say that I wasn't getting enough rest; some days, I did little but sleep, and aside from getting up to go to the bathroom (always with Rose's help), I hadn't left the couch in days. Of course, no matter how much I rested, my little nudger was still stronger than me, so strong that I knew that no tips for carrying an ordinary baby could really help me now. But then, as hard as things were, I was happy that he wasn't ordinary. I loved the idea that my baby was part Edward, part me, and like Esme, I couldn't wait to meet my son.


	207. Warning

Happy Tuesday to all, and to all a good…yeah, never mind. (Sorry, slightly hyper; I blame too much sugar…or maybe not enough. It's hard to tell sometimes—also, this time next week, my temporary job will be ending, so I'll need to start looking for a new job after Thanksgiving…maybe at the movie theater? I'm going to be there a lot over the next few weeks anyway to see "Breaking Dawn" :)). Today's chapter concerns the encounter that Seth had with Carlisle and Esme right after he and Jacob left Sam's pack. Thanks as always for your reviews, and for indulging me by reading so many chapters in such a short span of time, and I'll see you again tomorrow! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight" (as well as the first four lines of dialogue, or rather, thoughts, in this chapter), and 2 DAYS! AHHHHHHHHH! :)

_2006_: Warning

Seth's POV

_ Vampire. Bet it's Carlisle._

_ Seth, fall back. It might be someone else._

_ No, it's them. I recognize the scent. Hold up, I'm going to phase to explain it to them._

_ Seth, I don't think—_

Seth didn't hear what Jacob thought though, since he was already phasing back to human. Once he had hands again, Seth reached down for the shorts he usually kept tied to his leg with an elastic cord, and swore when he saw that they weren't there. In his haste to meet up with the pack earlier that day, he'd forgotten to tie on the cord or the shorts.

_Yikes_, Seth thought. _This is going to be kind of awkward._ Unfortunately, under the circumstances, his being embarrassed for a few seconds was the least of his problems.

"Carlisle!" Seth called quietly, knowing that even if the vampires were half a mile away by now, they'd still hear him. "Esme!"

When Seth heard them coming toward him, he quickly looked around and then ducked behind a bush that came up to the middle of his chest—it wasn't clothes, but it was better than nothing.

"Seth?" Carlisle said cautiously, stopping a few paces away. "What's going on?"

"You guys need to go home, now," Seth said, then blushed when Esme, who had stopped beside Carlisle, saw him standing behind the bush and then politely averted her eyes.

"What's happened?" Carlisle demanded.

"The pack's coming, or at least they were planning to when Jake and I left," Seth explained, and now Carlisle and Esme were both staring at him. At least it was easy to forget to be embarrassed, given the fact that they might be just minutes away from a bloody battle. "Sam decided to attack you guys when Jake came back and we all found out about Bella. Sam thinks the baby's going to be dangerous, so he wants to attack before it's born, so it can't hurt anyone. Jake and I left to come warn you—Sam tried to make us join in the attack, but then Jake stood up to Sam, and I followed him."

Carlisle and Esme had both gradually tensed as Seth spoke, and as soon as he fell silent, Carlisle began scanning the forest, obviously listening for any sounds of approaching wolves.

"I don't think they'll attack now though," Seth said reassuringly. "I mean, when we get back, there'll be nine of us at your place—well, eight if someone stays inside and guards Bella. Sam won't attack when the odds against him are that bad, and I don't think…I mean, he won't hurt us, if he can avoid it."

An unpleasant thought had just occurred to Seth, but he quickly dismissed it. No, Sam wouldn't order an attack now—he wouldn't kill two of his own, even if he and Jacob _had_ broken away from the pack. Still, Seth shifted uncomfortably when he imagined Sam ordering Leah to attack him, to kill him if she had to…

"Oh, Seth…" Esme said, her face suddenly concerned. Seth started, wondering if she'd read his mind, but then he realized that he wasn't a wolf; on his human face, his worry must be easy to read. Carlisle looked worried too, but judging by the protective arm he'd put around Esme, at the moment, he was more concerned with the possibility of his wife getting ripped apart by wolves than Seth's unease regarding the rift between the packs.

"We'll head home now," Carlisle said firmly. "Thank you, Seth. We're very grateful for what you've done."

"Sure," Seth said awkwardly, already backing away into a more open space to shift. "I'll see you in a bit." Seth didn't really feel like he deserved their gratitude; after all, Jacob was the one who'd broken free of Sam's control. After that, it had been easy to follow him away. Seeing Carlisle and Esme reminded Seth of why he'd followed though. Not only were they almost certainly the most non-threatening vampires in the world, Carlisle had basically saved Jacob's life just a few weeks ago, and Esme…well, Seth knew his mom wouldn't appreciate the comparison, but Esme reminded him a lot of his mother. Both of them were really pretty, really nice, but Seth got the feeling that Esme could be just as scary as his mom when she got mad.

"Be careful!" Esme called after him as she and Carlisle turned to run home.

Seth smiled and shook his head as he became a wolf again. It was such a mom thing, telling a werewolf to be careful of other werewolves. Even though he wished he'd had clothes on when he'd done it, he was glad he'd been able to tell them what was going on—of course, now that he'd delivered the warning, it remained to be seen what they could actually do about it. It was up to Sam to make the next move, and depending on what he decided, tonight could either end in a standoff…or a bloodbath.


	208. Chance

Hi everyone! Today's chapter concerns Carlisle and Esme taking a quick break together in the midst of trying to care for Bella, reassure Edward, and get used to the presence of Jacob and his pack. Thanks for your reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow and Friday with two more chapters in this "Breaking Dawn" series of updates. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and THERE'S ONLY ONE MORE DAY! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S ALMOST HERE! :)

_2006_: Chance

Esme's POV

Carlisle was in his office when Esme found him. He was pouring over every book and article that might contain some mention of the legend that Edward had heard about in South America, but so far, though his desk was piled high with papers and books, and he seemed to have barely looked up from his laptop in hours, he hadn't found anything to go on. In spite of all the work that he, Jasper, and Emmett had done, all they had to guide them was the legend that Edward had heard from the woman on the island, and the conclusion of her story had promised only death for a woman in Bella's position.

"Hi," Esme said quietly, perching on the arm of Carlisle's chair and putting her arm around him.

Carlisle sighed. "Hi. How are things downstairs?"

Esme shrugged. "The same. Rosalie's still irritated by poor Jacob's very existence, and Bella can't wait for him to come back. Edward…"

Esme trailed off, trying not to shudder. She knew that she would never be able to forget the look of intense pain she'd seen on Edward's face so often over the past few days, but that wasn't what was really bothering her. If Bella didn't survive, Esme knew that she was going to lose her son; the anguish he felt now would be nothing compared to what he'd feel if Bella didn't make it, and perhaps worst of all, Esme found that she couldn't blame him for wanting to give up at the thought of having to live without his wife. If anything ever happened to Carlisle, Esme knew that she'd be just as eager to escape the pain of being without him.

Carlisle sighed again. "I know. He's in agony."

Esme took his hand, then closed her eyes as he reached up to stroke the side of her face. "There's nothing we can do but try to take care of Bella as best we can. At least there's a little color in her face today, though I can't seem to find much human food that appeals to her. Aside from eggs, she just wants blood."

Esme opened her eyes to see Carlisle nodding thoughtfully. "Jacob's idea about blood doubtless saved her life, not that he wants the idea attributed to him, however."

Esme chuckled humorlessly. "That poor boy. This time last week, I bet he never could have imagined his life taking this sort of turn."

"A month ago, none of us could have imagined this situation," Carlisle said grimly. "You're right, though. Jacob's had less time than any of us to get used to all this, but he's handling things admirably."

"Do you think they'll ever forgive him? The rest of the pack, I mean," Esme said quietly. "And his father…oh, and Seth and Leah's mother too. They all must be worried sick."

"I'd call them and try to reassure them if I thought it would do any good," Carlisle said, the ghost of a smile flashing across his face at the thought. "However, I think that the result would be the opposite of the desired effect."

"I wonder about him, being with Bella," Esme said quietly. "It certainly seems to do her good, but…it must be so hard for him to see her this way. And it's hard for her too, knowing that she's hurting him. But he keeps coming, and she keeps hoping he'll come. The connection between them seems to run deeper than that of two people who are merely good friends."

Carlisle shrugged. "I can't understand it. At first, I thought he might just be the only connection to Bella's human life that she could safely hold onto now, when she must be wishing for her parents' support more than she ever has before. I assumed that since she couldn't reach out to Charlie and Renée, at least she could keep Jacob close, since he already knows our secret. But you're right, it's more than their just being friends. Jacob wouldn't have defied Sam for our sake alone, or for what remains of his friendship with Bella, given his aversion to our kind."

Esme nodded sadly. "That's it, then. He still loves her, in spite of everything. In a way, I'm glad, because he does Bella so much good, just by being here. But really, it would be so much easier for Jacob if he could move on…"

Esme leaned her head against Carlisle's and closed her eyes again. Perhaps there could be no 'moving on' for Jacob, just as there would be none for Edward if he had to face a future without Bella. Esme wished there was something, _anything_ she could do for her son, for Bella, for Jacob. Was it possible that they could all give up so much and get nothing in return for their sacrifices, their pain?

"There's a chance, isn't there?" Esme whispered at last. "There's a chance that the baby will be all right, that Bella can carry it until it's strong enough to live on its own, and then Edward can change her, and then we won't have to lose any of them…"

Wordlessly, Carlisle pulled her off the arm of the chair and into his lap. They sat that way in silence for several minutes, and though their faces were only inches apart, neither of them moved. The luxury of this quiet moment together was all they could allow themselves for now.

Esme resisted the urge to cry as he cradled her in his arms. Doing so might be cathartic, but there was no time now to wallow in grief. No, not now. Not when there was still a chance that all this could end in a miracle instead of a tragedy.


	209. Worthy

AHHH! IT'S TONIGHT! Ahem, sorry, I'll get back to freaking out in a moment, but first thing's first: today's chapter is from Leah's perspective, thanks again for your reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow with one more "Breaking Dawn" chapter. Okay, now back to my regularly scheduled freakout. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer = "Twilight," and OHMYGOSH I'M SEEING BREAKING DAWN TONIGHT AT MIDNIGHT! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! :)

_2006_: Worthy

Leah's POV

Snarling quietly to herself with impatience, Leah raced through the woods. It was still dark, but the sun would be rising soon; technically, it was morning already, and Leah was waiting for Jacob to get his furry butt out of the leeches' house and into the woods. That was where he belonged if he was so intent on protecting them, along with Bella and her little demon spawn.

Leah was by no means running for the bloodsuckers' sake—she did it because it was easier not to think about everything she wanted to forget while she was running. Her mother, Sam, the way her body was apparently frozen in time: she could escape it all, if only temporarily, if she embraced the part of her that was a wolf as she raced through the trees. Sniffing at the air, Leah was about to make a detour when she caught the scent of leech, but then she heard low voices about half a mile away.

"We should leave later today, as soon as Jacob's awake and he and the others have patrolled the area," Carlisle said quietly.

Leah perked up her ears at that, wondering if the good doctor was going to pull a disappearing act, but then he continued.

"Bella's going to need more blood soon, and so will the baby, once it arrives. We only have a few days left, and all of us need to feed, the sooner the better."

"I know," Esme said softly. "It's just so hard to imagine leaving at a time like this, even if it's only for a few hours. So much could happen while we're gone...but then again, so much could happen if we stay here while we're still thirsty."

"Exactly," Carlisle said gently. "The last thing any of us needs is to be tempted every time Bella takes a sip of blood over the next few days. The moment the baby comes, we'll need to be ready to help."

"I'm not worried about you," Esme said. "But I know that I'll feel better about getting close to her after I've hunted."

"So will I," Carlisle said grimly. "Handling so much blood the past few days has reminded me that I'm hardly infallible. It would be so easy to slip under circumstances such as these. One moment of carelessness, and something terrible could happen."

Leah could see them now through the trees. They were sitting on a rock by the river, holding hands and, from the sound of it, trailing their feet in the water while they talked. Leah shook her head—her wolf's ears could pick out the oddest sounds sometimes.

"I hope that Leah and Jacob are eating enough," Esme said suddenly, her voice still gentle but slightly louder than before. "I don't want either of them starving to death on our behalf. Thank goodness that Seth at least seems to be getting enough food when he comes over."

Leah rolled her eyes and jogged away. Esme had clearly heard her sneaking around, and now she was pulling the classic mom line: "I'm worried you're not eating enough; look what a good appetite your brother has!" Her own mother did it too, as if worrying about her in one breath and then praising Seth for not worrying her so much in the next would actually get Leah to change her eating habits. It was annoying to admit it, even to herself, but Leah had to acknowledge that Esme really did sound like a mom…a bloodsucking denizen of the night, but a mom too. Of course, since Leah's own mother was, at that very moment, probably ready to kill her for running off and joining Jacob's crazy leech-lover pack, Esme Cullen, world's best vampire mom, wasn't exactly intimidating by comparison.

When she overheard little snatches of their conversations like this, Leah could sort of understand why Jacob might be willing to risk his life for the Cullens. Carlisle and Esme, sitting by the river and holding hands like teenagers, did seem pretty harmless as far as leeches went, not that she'd met many…but Bella? The ordinary, even slightly dull human girl who'd broken Jacob's heart, and whose baby might pose a threat to all of them soon? No, Leah couldn't see how Bella could possibly be worthy of Jacob's sacrifices.


	210. Beginning

Once again, Happy Friday to all! I know that some of you saw "Breaking Dawn" Part 1 last night, but since not everyone was able to go, I won't say anything spoiler-y until my next update. :) (I wrote this chapter well in advance because I knew I'd be tired after last night; I actually worked extra hours last week so I'd only have to work six hours today. That way, I was able to sleep in. :)) Today's chapter concerns Jacob's feelings just after Renesmee's birth, and how I think Carlisle and Esme would have accepted the whole imprinting thing better than Rosalie, who I can see being less than thrilled with the idea, especially at first. Thanks once again for reading all these "Breaking Dawn" chapters, and I'll see you again next week with some new updates! (Yeah, I'm taking this Sunday off—I need to get ready to move out on Wednesday…)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and "BREAKING DAWN" WAS EXCEEDINGLY AWESOME! :)

_2006_: Beginning

Jacob's POV

I have absolutely no idea how long I stood there, staring at Renesmee while Blondie held her, making quiet baby talk sounds. We were both so engrossed in her that we were oblivious to each other for awhile, but eventually, a stray breeze carried my scent in her direction. Rosalie stiffened then before turning to glare at me.

"Are you still here?" she said coolly. Then, thanks to my peripheral vision, I saw her eyes narrow when she took in the fact that I was fixated on Renesmee. I'm not sure what kind of expression was on my face—I was still too stunned to really process anything but Renesmee and the objects in her immediate vicinity, but I must have looked pretty strange, because Blondie's eyebrows shot up in confusion.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she demanded, sounding more incredulous than angry now. "Why are you staring at her like that? You hated her ten minutes ago!"

I shook my head. For one thing, my sanity was starting to return, and I knew that if I tried to explain what had just happened to me in my current impaired mental state—that I'd _imprinted_ on her newborn niece—Rosalie would almost certainly kill me. After several seconds of silence, I finally managed to take a step toward them, and the moment I did, Rosalie was out of her seat and backing away, her expression fierce.

"Alice," Rosalie said quietly. "Could you come in here and put the dog out for me?"

A second later, I sensed Alice behind me. "What's going on?" she said, and then I heard her gasp when she saw Renesmee. Though I couldn't be sure, I imagined that, like me, Alice was having an abrupt change of heart about the baby, now that she could actually see her. Just then, Renesmee starting squirming in Rosalie's arms. Rosalie tried to soothe her, but Renesmee was reaching a tiny hand out in my direction, and she whimpered when Rosalie turned her away from me.

I waved back at her. "Hi," I said stupidly, my voice barely above a whisper. Renesmee smiled in response and stretched her tiny fingers toward me again. When Rosalie tried to turn her away again, Renesmee uttered an indignant little yelp, and I could swear her eyes were filling with tears.

"Wait," Rosalie said quietly, though Alice had apparently been too shocked by the sight of the baby to even start to grab me, assuming she was even inclined to follow Blondie's order. Though she was clearly pissed, Rosalie crossed the room until she was standing only a couple feet away from me. For once, her smell didn't make me want to hold my nose—seeing Renesmee up close was so distracting that I didn't notice anything else. She had hair the color of Edward's, but her eyes were Bella's. She didn't smell like a vampire, but her scent wasn't quite human either. She was, without question, the strangest and most amazing thing I'd ever seen, and at the urging of her insistent sounds, with an exasperated huff, Rosalie moved close enough for Renesmee to reach out and touch me.

I leaned down so her little hand touched my forehead, and all at once, an image of Bella filled my head. She was bleeding and exhausted, but she was smiling triumphantly at me…no, at Renesmee.

"Whoa," I whispered faintly.

"What?" Rosalie said impatiently.

With a tiny giggle, Renesmee turned back to her aunt and touched the side of her head. Rosalie actually jumped a little with surprise.

"What did you see?" I asked. I was guessing that Renesmee had just shown me what she was thinking about, but I wanted someone else's opinion, even if it was Blondie's, before I suggested something so seemingly crazy.

Rosalie shook her head. "Bella…then me, then you. What—"

Emmett and Jasper came in then, followed closely by Carlisle and Esme, who'd apparently just gotten home.

"Rosalie," Carlisle said urgently. "Is the baby—"

All four of them stopped and gaped at Renesmee, who was smiling happily in their direction and giving them a little wave—newborns weren't supposed to be able to wave _or_ smile though, were they?

"Oh," Esme said softly, clapping a hand over her mouth. I couldn't tell if she was on the verge of laughing or crying, but she was clearly as awed as everyone else. Dr. Fang looked pretty stunned too—he just put his arm around Esme and stared at the baby along with the rest of us.

"This is Renesmee," Rosalie said proudly, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes—she sounded so pleased that you would have thought the kid was hers. "And Bella's upstairs—apparently, Edward's venom is working, so contrary to the pessimistic attitudes of some people," here, Blondie gave me a look, "things have turned out just fine."

"Oh, she's beautiful," Esme breathed, moving forward and gently stroking Renesmee's hair.

Carlisle blinked, finally snapping out of his daze and remembering that he was a doctor. "I should probably examine her—"

"I'll go see how Edward's doing," Esme said, and though she started to turn herself in that direction, she seemed unable to tear herself away from Renesmee just yet.

"Before that, will someone _please_ put the dog out?" Rosalie said. "Now that there are less foul-smelling people for her to look at—"

"Rose," Carlisle said, his voice calm but slightly stern, "don't." But then Carlisle gave me an appraising look—like Rosalie, he clearly wondered what I was doing here, standing so close to the baby and looking as awed as everyone else when, just minutes ago, I'd been ready to kill Renesmee. Now, every fiber of my being shrank from the very thought of hurting her.

"Jacob," Jasper said quietly, and I almost jumped. Jasper and I had barely ever spoken before, but now he was staring at me, and my heart sank a little. Obviously, he'd picked up on my suddenly elevated mood. "Are you…feeling all right?"

"See? I could tell something was up with him," Rosalie declared. "What's he feeling? Something creepy, right?"

"No," Jasper said, looking puzzled. "He's…as happy as the rest of us. Happier even."

I swallowed hard. "Um…yeah, about that…" I looked in Carlisle and Esme's direction, since I thought they were the least likely to try and kill me when I explained this. "Did Edward ever…I mean, I know he's heard about it, so I'm guessing he's told you about…imprinting."

Clearly, from the shocked expressions on the Cullens' faces, Edward had in fact given his family at least a brief description of what it meant when a wolf imprinted on someone. Predictably, Rosalie was the first to recover from her shock. In a split second, she went from surprised to pissed.

"Out," she hissed, her voice low and murderous. Just as I'd expected, she looked like she was about to rip my head off, even if she had to set Renesmee down to do it.

"Rose," Esme said sharply, stepping between me and Blondie. "Stop. The way I understand it, if Jacob's imprinted on the baby, it wasn't something he could control. I also don't think he wants to do anything but protect her, just like the rest of us do. Is that right, Jacob?"

"Yeah, that's it," I said, putting up my hands defensively—it was sort of an instinctual "I'm harmless" gesture. "It's nothing creepy. I just…want her to be safe and happy, more than anything else."

"I don't care," Rosalie said, practically spitting and completely ignoring me. "He needs to leave. _Now_."

"Rosalie," Carlisle said, his voice firm, "Renesmee might not be here at all if it weren't for Jacob. Without him, we might not still be here either. I understand that you don't like him, but I'm not going to allow you to throw him out of our house. He has a right to be here—even Renesmee seems to agree."

Much to Blondie's dismay, Renesmee was pointing in my direction again, smiling at everyone in turn before going back to staring at me. When I reached out a hand to pat her head, she grabbed my fingers in her tiny hands to pull me toward her. I moved closer, letting her examine my hand, and then my jaw dropped when she promptly bit me.

That made everyone laugh, either in surprise or, in Rosalie's case, sadistic amusement, our little confrontation suddenly forgotten. Even I laughed—it was all too crazy. Minutes ago, I'd been planning—well, I didn't even want to think about what I'd planned to do to Renesmee—and now I was her chew toy.

"I like you too, Nessie," I said, gently extracting my hand to examine the bite. Since I wasn't writhing on the ground in agony, apparently, she wasn't venomous like the others were.

"Nessie?" Emmett repeated quizzically. "What, like the monster?"

"It's easier to say than Renesmee," I said. "Plus, she's got sharp teeth, and certain things about her are definitely monster-like."

"Somehow I have a feeling that Bella isn't going to appreciate that nickname," Esme said, smiling at me.

"Is your hand all right?" Carlisle asked.

"Fine," I said, showing him the already healed bite wound. "It didn't even hurt. Must've been a play bite."

Rosalie snorted, but her rage seemed to have subsided as quickly as it had appeared. "I suppose you can stay as long as Renesmee enjoys gnawing on you."

"I'll be right back," Carlisle said, finally breaking away from the group to go check on Edward and Bella.

"Have you eaten today, Jacob?" Esme asked. "I can make you something while I heat up some blood for Nessie."

"Oh, okay, thanks," I stammered awkwardly. I sort of felt like my brain was about to explode. In the time it had taken me to get one good look at Nessie, my old "I hate vampires" attitude had been completely transformed—all at once, they seemed to stink less, and suddenly, I wasn't even freaked out about being in the same room with five bloodsuckers. Well, five and a half, actually.

Almost as shocking was the fact that Carlisle and Esme had stood up for me—I'd figured that at best, they'd politely ask me to leave and to not bother their granddaughter in the future. Instead, they seemed to accept that I had a place at Renesmee's side, just like the rest of them did. I grinned at Renesmee as she showed her uncles and Aunt Alice her weird talent; now I finally knew how Quil felt. As unnerving as it was, keeping this little girl safe and content suddenly seemed like the most enjoyable activity in the world. Looking back, I realize that that moment, when I really felt at ease with the Cullens for the first time, was the beginning of a whole new life for me, which involved not just Renesmee, but also a rather weird friendship with the whole happy vampire family.


	211. Rivals

Hi everyone! Sorry for taking last week off, and then updating later than usual, but last Wednesday I moved, then came Thanksgiving, and now I'm looking for a new job again, so…yeah, things are a little crazy at the moment. I'm finally back though; I've got one new chapter for you today, and on Sunday, I'll have another, plus the first chapter of a new story focusing on Carlisle's life before he found and changed the other Cullens. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't wait to see "Breaking Dawn" again! (Was anyone else thrilled by how much screen time Esme got in "Breaking Dawn"? Seriously, I think she got more lines in this movie than in the other three combined—and she and Carlisle were so cute together! So awesome! :))

_1988_: Rivals

Carlisle's POV

It was a brisk November morning, and when Carlisle stepped outside, he was happy to see that sunrise was still about an hour away. The sky above was clear, and unless it grew cloudy soon, he was going to have to take the day off from work. As he ran beside Esme through the trees though, Carlisle didn't mind the prospect of a mandatory day off. In fact, after they'd both drained a deer, Carlisle could think of nothing he'd like better than to spend the day alone in their room together. He knew that Esme had some work to do in her studio, so Carlisle thought about what he might do while she worked; he was writing an article for a medical journal (under an assumed name, of course), so there was that to finish, and of course, Christmas was only a few weeks away. As always, he wanted to find something special for every member of his family, but Esme in particular on this, their sixtieth holiday together…

"Shall we look for something tastier before we go home?" Esme asked, her eyes still rather dark, and Carlisle nodded, his thoughts still turned toward Christmas gifts.

"And stop thinking about presents for me," Esme said firmly. "You know I'm easy to shop for."

Carlisle laughed. "How could you tell it was on my mind?"

"It's that time of year again, and after all these years, I've learned to recognize that preoccupied smile of yours," Esme said playfully, taking his hand. "You know I always love whatever you get me."

"Almost always," Carlisle pointed out. "I seem to recall making some regrettable clothing and jewelry choices in the past."

"Carlisle, you could live for a thousand years and not understand women's fashion," Esme said, laughing. "Why do you think Rose and Alice are so hard to buy for? Even I make mistakes when it comes to matters of their taste in—"

Suddenly, they both froze. The unmistakable scent of humans was suddenly in the air. The wind had shifted, and now Carlisle realized that there must be humans less than half a mile away from where they stood. Beside him, Carlisle felt Esme tense; she was still thirsty, and in spite of her playful attitude of a moment ago, she was still focused on hunting, her body already turning toward the smell while her mind tried to resist the urge to hunt. It had been decades since Esme had slipped, and Carlisle knew that she would be devastated if she did so now because of a chance bit of bad luck. Thus, feeling a little guilty even as he did it, Carlisle pulled Esme to the ground, where he promptly rolled them into a pile of dead leaves. He could hear the humans coming closer, but at least the leaves and the darkness might conceal them from the curious eyes of their would-be prey.

"Sorry," he said apologetically, though he kept her pinned to the ground, just in case she tried to pursue the smell.

Esme shook her head. "No, that's okay. I'm all right now, but for a moment, I…"

"We should hunt more often, so we can avoid the chance of accidents like this," Carlisle said gently.

Esme sighed. "_You_ don't need to hunt more often, but perhaps I do. I've been trying to keep to your hunting schedule, but I suppose it's going to be another hundred years or so before I can go so long without feeding."

Carlisle smiled sympathetically. "Esme, I was just thinking that we've been together sixty years. Before I met you, six decades seemed like a long time, but since I've known you, I can see how little time it really is. There's no reason for you to wait as long as I do to hunt, not if it makes you uncomfortable. Sixty years into this life, I probably hunted twice as much as you have lately."

Esme smiled gratefully. "Thank you. But I wonder what humans are even doing out in the woods at this time of day."

"It's hunting season," Carlisle murmured, realizing at last what was going on. "It appears we have some rival hunters to contend with this morning."

Esme chuckled softly beneath him, and Carlisle shifted slightly—this position was a rather distracting one, and having Esme move, even slightly, made Carlisle think of something very different than the necessity of staying still and quiet until the humans were safely away from a pair of thirsty vampires.

"Am I distracting you from our attempts at concealment, Dr. Cullen?" Esme whispered cheerfully—clearly, she could feel just how distracted he was.

Carlisle smiled grimly. "It's both a blessing and a curse, being twenty-three forever."

"You know," Esme said thoughtfully, pulling his face down toward hers, "maybe if we…distract each other for a while, by the time we're done doing that, the hunters will be gone."

Carlisle smiled. "That's an excellent suggestion, if we can manage to stay relatively quiet."

Some time later, and after only a little bit of noise, which the humans didn't seem to notice, the hunters passed without even coming close to Carlisle and Esme's hiding place. As soon as the hunters were downwind of them, Carlisle and Esme ran home, stopping on the way for a few more deer. When they reached the house, they found Alice standing outside, waiting to apologize.

"I'm sorry!" she called as soon as they were in earshot. "Jasper and I were sort of…busy earlier, so I didn't see what was going to happen until you'd already left."

"Everything turned out fine, so don't worry, Alice," Esme said. "Do humans normally hunt in those woods?

"No," Alice said ruefully. "Those men were from out of town. They're here for a wedding, and they didn't decide until early this morning that they were really going hunting. Next time, I'll be more careful."

"We all need to be more careful than usual this time of year, Alice," Carlisle said, patting her shoulder. "I was…distracted this morning too. During hunting season for humans, we should always be careful when we hunt."

Esme smiled at him, clearly remembering their recent distraction. Despite the near miss they'd had, Carlisle decided that in retrospect, it had been an enjoyable hunting trip. The next time they went looking for deer or any other game though, Carlisle hoped that they wouldn't have any unwitting human rivals to contend with.


	212. Propriety

Hi everyone! Today's chapter is a fun one; I try not to indulge myself too often, but now and then, I love to write a chapter where Carlisle and Esme discuss literature or otherwise do something both bookish and romantic. :) Thanks as always for your reviews, and if you get a chance, please check out the first chapter of "Stregoni Benefici, Unico," my new story about Carlisle's life before the other Cullens. (I'm probably not going to update it weekly, but we'll see; every other week seems more likely though). I also just started a story called "You and I," and it focuses on Magnus and Alec from "The Mortal Instruments" series, so if you're into Malec fic, please check that out. (Just so you know though, it's rated M, it is slash, and there will be lemons—just an FYI :)). See you next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and seriously, I've only seen "Breaking Dawn" three times. Who else might want to go with me? Maybe my aunt? Can I get my friend Sarah to go before she moves to Alaska? Hmm… Also, the quote below from "Lady Chatterley's Lover" (written by D.H. Lawrence) is from page 300 of the novel, and I included it because I so enjoyed imagining Carlisle reading it aloud. :)

_1929_: Propriety

Esme's POV

When the book arrived in the mail, Carlisle immediately showed Esme the note that had accompanied it:

_Carlisle,_

_ Some weeks ago, an acquaintance obtained the enclosed novel. It was not to my taste, but perhaps being recently married, you will enjoy it more than I did._

_ Best regards,_

_ Alistair_

"It seems like a cruel thing to say, but his letters always seem more friendly than Alistair himself does," Esme said with a smile.

Carlisle shrugged. "Alistair isn't really comfortable with any kind of social interaction, but I think he much prefers writing letters to actually speaking to people. He can write things like "best regards" regardless of how misanthropic he's feeling at the moment."

"What book did he send?" Esme asked. Carlisle unwrapped it and they flipped open to the title page: "Lady Chatterley's Lover."

"Oh, it's a new D.H. Lawrence novel," Esme said eagerly. "His books are always interesting, though I suppose his poetry runs the gamut from wonderful to downright silly."

Carlisle nodded. "This must be a first edition. I haven't heard anything about this title at the bookshop yet. It always amazes me that much as Alistair dislikes being with people, he manages to maintain a network of acquaintances who send him books."

Esme laughed. "Even misanthropes need something to do. Just because Alistair doesn't particularly like real people doesn't mean he isn't entertained by reading about fictional ones."

They read the book over several nights; it was fun, reading aloud to each other each morning or evening after Carlisle returned home from work. Though there were times when Esme was surprised by Lawrence's frankness, she liked the book. After all, the author was only telling the truth about what physical love might be like between two people who loved each other. Though there was nothing wrong with such honesty, Esme suspected that she never would have dared to read such a book when she'd been human; she would have been too scared of someone—Charles, or her parents—somehow finding it and promptly turning to one of the scenes between Connie and Mellors in the gamekeeper's cabin.

For the sake of so-called propriety, Esme mused, women were taught not to think about sex, or at least not as something that could be enjoyable anyway. It seemed silly and unnecessary in retrospect, the way she'd sometimes chastised herself for thinking about handsome Dr. Cullen in a less than proper way when she'd been alive. Of course, there was no need for such things now that she shared a bed with the object of her fantasies. Esme always felt thankful as she sat curled up beside Carlisle, his arm around her, that after the often difficult life she'd had as a human, she was now free to read what she wanted, to be with the man she loved, and to not have to worry about what anyone thought of her or her choices.

Though Esme tried to resist the urge to consider the question, she couldn't help but wonder at times what Edward might have thought of Lady Chatterley. He'd been gone for over two years now, and yet Esme still found herself thinking on a daily basis what Edward's opinion on a given subject might be. He was never much for long chats about books, and neither was she—she preferred simply reading novels to talking about them—but Esme still imagined what sort of conversation they might have had about this particular book, which Esme guessed was going to cause a minor scandal if it hadn't already, given the reception of some of Lawrence's other works. She knew that Carlisle wondered too, but there seemed to be an unspoken rule between them that they wouldn't speculate on Edward's opinion until they'd finished the whole book.

One night, just a page or two before the end of the novel, Carlisle suddenly smiled at a passage he'd clearly skimmed before reading.

"What?" Esme asked.

"I like this part," Carlisle said, and read, "_All__ the __bad __times __that __ever __have__ been, __haven__'__t __been __able __to __blow__ the __crocus __out: __nor __even __the __love __of __women. __So __they __won__'__t __be __able __to __blow __out __my __wanting __you, __nor__ the __little __glow__ there __is __between __you __and __me. __We__'__ll __be __together__ next __year. __And __though __I__'__m__ frightened, __I __believe__ in __your __being __with __me. __A__ man __has __to __fend __and __fettle __for __the __best, __and__ then__ trust__ in __something __beyond__ himself.__ You __can__'__t __insure __against __the __future,__ except __by __really __believing__ in__ the __best__ bit __of __you, __and __in __the __power __beyond __it.__ So __I __believe __in __the __little __flame __between__ us. __For __me __now, __it__'__s __the__ only __thing __in __the __world._"

Esme sighed, both happily and sadly. She imagined what it would have been like to have known and loved Carlisle as a human as Connie had known Mellors, in every sense. How would it have felt, to carry his child and have only human conventions like divorce and want of fortune to divide them? Then there was the thought of Edward, and how with him gone, she and Carlisle were each the only person that the other really had in the world.

After a few more minutes of reading, they were finished. Carlisle set the book down on the end table and pulled Esme close.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I still can't decide," Esme murmured. "I keep going back and forth between thinking he'd think that it was too sentimental or thinking he'd think that it was too depressing. But I thought it was both. I mean, it was sad in many ways, but there were a lot of hopeful moments too, hope in spite of everything that might happen next. I'd love to talk with him about it."

"So would I. And maybe we'll get to someday," Carlisle said gently. "At least, I hope we will."

Esme laid her head on his shoulder. Though Edward's absence was hard to bear, in some ways, it was getting easier as time passed. At least now, they were comfortable enough to talk about him—they'd avoided the subject for some months after Edward's departure, and that had done neither of them any good. Things were better now that they could admit to each other that they missed their son, though Esme knew that it was still hard for Carlisle to admit that his hopes for Edward's long-awaited return were tinged with doubt.

"I just wonder…where he is, and what he does when he's not hunting," Carlisle whispered. "Do you think he still enjoys music, or books, or if he's tried to…give up such things? I mean, when I was young, and I thought it was my job to rid the world of monsters, that duty consumed my life. It mattered to me more than anything, because it had been my father's cause, so I made it mine too. Maybe Edward thinks that he can succeed…where I couldn't. Of ridding the world of monsters, I mean."

"Oh, Carlisle," Esme said sadly. She had no answer for him, but really, she knew that none was required. She simply turned and wrapped her arms around him, and for a long time, they sat quietly together, the ticking clock on the mantle the only sound in the room.

"If that's the sort of thing he was thinking when he left," Esme said at last, "he'll come home when he realizes how monster hunters tend to become monsters themselves eventually. Someday he'll understand what you tried to teach him—that trying to decide who should live and who should die will only make him even unhappier than he was before. One day, he'll start to have regrets, and then he'll come back to us."

"Thank you, dearest," Carlisle said, smiling at her, and Esme smiled too, glad that she could comfort him, if only momentarily. And after all, Edward _would_ be back someday…at least, that was what she hoped.

They kissed for a while then, and after a few minutes, the motion of their lips together became something different than a need to comfort each other. Carlisle grinned at her as he scooped her up and carried her upstairs. Then, in their room, they proceeded to do a number of things that made Esme forget all about novels and human standards of propriety. Still, she could never quite forget about Edward.


	213. Awkward

Hi everyone! Sorry for updating a day late, but it was a busy weekend. (We finally got a Christmas tree, and though my shopping is almost done, I still have to do Christmas cards!) Today's chapter takes place after "Twilight" and before "New Moon," a period of time I love to set stories in, since we don't really get to know much about this period (spanning several months) from the books. Thanks as always for your reviews and I'll see you again next week! (Also, just so you know, since Christmas falls on a Sunday this year, I'll definitely have a Christmas-themed chapter ready for you then. :))

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I saw "Breaking Dawn" again this past week! (But since I had a stomachache at the time, it wasn't much fun…oh well, I'll just have to try and go again sometime...:)).

_2005_: Awkward

Bella's POV

Since the cast on my leg had finally come off, Charlie seemed to have relaxed a little about my going over to the Cullens' most days. After all, it was summertime, so there was no homework to keep up with, and in spite of Edward's hints about the necessity of planning for the future (a wholly _human_ future, which bothered me), I wasn't ready to start applying to colleges with my entire senior year of high school still ahead of me. Of course, if Edward was willing to compromise when it came to his role in my plans for the future, then I'd be willing to start establishing an alibi, but we didn't quite see eye to eye on that particular issue...yet. He may have had almost ninety years to become practiced in the arts of patience and negotiation, but I wasn't about to give up.

Anyway, as long as I made it to my job at Newton's Olympic Outfitters and kept him from starving to death, as a concerned parent, Charlie couldn't really complain about my choice of company or summer vacation activities. At the Cullens' house, Edward and I almost always had at least some kind of parental supervision, and it wasn't like I was doing anything that really warranted the defensive attitude I adopted whenever Charlie muttered something about Edward; I was just hanging out with my boyfriend, who was a lot more concerned with us not doing anything beyond kissing than I was. Objectively of course, I understood Edward's concerns about what could happen if we got too close and he lost control, but every time he kissed me, the rational part of my brain that was supposed to be worried about the superhuman strength of vampires just went quiet, and I never really thought of much of anything until Edward inevitably pushed me away.

One afternoon, Edward and I were sitting on the sofa in his room, listening to music, when I excused myself to use the bathroom. There wasn't one on the third floor of the Cullens' house, but of course it didn't matter—Edward only needed a bathroom for the shower, so he shared Rosalie and Emmett's bathroom, while Alice had invited me to share her palatial bathroom, which was almost twice the size of my room at Charlie's, whenever I visited. Technically, it was hers and Jasper's, but it was hard to imagine any guy setting foot in this room, which looked more like a beauty salon than an actual bathroom. Alice had told me that though they didn't need it, she and Rosalie liked to wear makeup sometimes, thus the endless rows of tubes, powders, and various other implements of torture that Alice had inflicted on me before the prom.

As I was walking back to Edward's room, I passed Carlisle's office. The door was partially open, so I leaned forward to say hello…just in time to see Esme sitting in Carlisle's lap, the two of them kissing. With an embarrassed squeak, I jumped away from the door and hurried back up the stairs to Edward's room, trying not to trip over my own feet as I climbed. Edward was waiting for me, and I could tell by the expression on his face that he was trying not to laugh.

"They're sorry," he said immediately, and though it seemed impossible, I blushed even harder.

"I should have knocked first," I said with an embarrassed shrug. "Has that ever happened to you?"

"Yes, and in my case there's no excuse, given everything I can hear both with my ears and in my head," Edward said sympathetically. "And of course, they should have heard you coming. They were just…distracted. They'd come upstairs and apologize, but they can hear us talking now, and I agree with Esme's thought that you'd be even more embarrassed if they came in now and said anything by way of an apology."

I glanced toward Edward's bedroom door, which I'd left open—of course, it was possible that they could hear us even when the door was closed.

"I guess I just forget sometimes, about how well you guys can hear," I said sheepishly. Of course, I'd walked in on Renée and Phil kissing before, which was actually more disturbing than seeing Carlisle and Esme like that, given that Renée is my mother and no child ever really wants to see their parent making out with anyone, ever. Instantly I felt a little sorry for Edward, who must have had a lot of similarly embarrassing moments over the past few decades, and Carlisle and Esme, who must have had to struggle to keep their thoughts away from things that would make Edward uncomfortable.

"What is it?" Edward asked.

"I was just thinking about how things must get awkward for all of you sometimes," I said. "I mean, I've only caught Renée and Phil kissing a few times, but it must have happened to you and Carlisle and Esme dozens of times over the years."

"More like hundreds," Edward said with a wry smile. "Esme soundproofs every house we live in, but it doesn't help if someone happens to leave their door open, or if I'm not paying attention to the thoughts around me and I go looking for one of my parents to ask a question. Emmett and Rosalie are still worse than they are though. That's part of why I'm relieved that they're away this summer."

I knew that the other part of Edward's relief was due to Rosalie's disapproval of me, but neither of us mentioned that. We talked for a while longer while the album on the turntable played, and when the music ended, we headed downstairs for lunch. At home, I would have just made myself a sandwich or something, but Esme was having a lot of fun cooking for me, so she'd made chicken marsala with rice pilaf, and peach cobbler for dessert. I was hungry, but I was also feeling a little more self-conscious than usual around Edward's mother. At least Carlisle had apparently left for work.

"Hi, honey," she said, smiling apologetically when she saw me blushing. "Sorry about earlier."

"No, I'm the one who should have knocked," I said quickly.

Edward chuckled. "Don't worry, Esme. I've already told Bella how many times I've been the one to walk in on you two."

"There's been a first time for all of our children," Esme said, her smile more amused than rueful now. "Fair warning, Bella: we try to be careful, but this probably won't be the last time for you either."

Surprisingly, that thought made me grin—not the thought that I was going to walk in on Carlisle and Esme again in the future, but that Esme considered me to be practically one of her children now. Even better, Edward didn't contradict her—he even smiled as he reached over and wiped a bit of food from the corner of my mouth with a napkin. It was nice to know that Edward wasn't the only one of the Cullens who somehow, rather inexplicably, loved me, my awkwardness and all.


	214. Guarantee

Hi everyone! This week's chapter concerns how (I think) Carlisle might have dealt with his feelings for Esme's human husband, and how Edward might have reacted to Carlisle's decision to not kill Charles Evenson. (Essentially, I think that though Carlisle refused to physically harm Evenson, he probably wouldn't have objected to scaring him...) Thanks once again for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week with a Christmas-themed chapter! (Also, "Stregoni Benefici, Unico" will be back next week with chapter three :)).

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm going to see "Breaking Dawn" the week after Christmas with my aunt! Ha ha, it's still so much fun to get excited about going to see it. :)

_1921_: Guarantee

Edward's POV

During Esme's first weeks as a vampire, all of us had a lot to get used to. For my part, I found Esme to be both a soothing and an upsetting presence; while she herself was very kind, though rather shy and nervous at times, her memories were often extremely unpleasant to overhear. It infuriated me that anyone could hurt such a sweet, gentle person, and on those rare occasions when Carlisle and I were alone, I made no secret of my fury and my desire to go after Charles Evenson. Much to my surprise, Carlisle responded to my angry tirades against the man with silence. The fact was, he too had considered putting an end to that loathsome excuse for a human's life. He was, however, determined not to act on his sanguine desires.

Carlisle, to my initial confusion, was much more stoic than I when it came to Esme's admittedly infrequent reminiscences about her past, but I soon understood why: my outbursts always frightened Esme a little, in spite of the fact that she was far stronger than me physically, so I quickly learned from my father's example to put her at ease. Esme, in turn, was always quick to thank us for our kindnesses, though I knew within minutes of meeting her that Esme felt far more than gratitude for Carlisle. Though I knew it was difficult for her to move past her human life at first, as the weeks went on, the grief that Esme felt for her lost child began to fade, and her confidence in the strength and security she now enjoyed with us began to grow. For his part, instead of dwelling on her past, Carlisle was clearly determined to make Esme's life with us as pleasant as possible.

Though Esme was a woman of fairly simple tastes, Carlisle did his best to give her anything and everything that might promote her happiness. It quickly became clear that her greatest joys were books, tools for painting and drawing, and a garden, which, until Esme's arrival, had been nothing but a sandy patch of grass and stones on the southern corner of our property. It was early spring, and after weeks of work, Esme had coaxed the seeds that Carlisle had brought home for her to life. Though it seemed like a small thing on the surface, for Esme, every image she sketched, every book she read, and every plant she grew were small victories, proofs that her newfound freedom was something she could trust.

About a month after bringing Esme home, Carlisle left unexpectedly one evening for what he told Esme was an extra shift at the hospital. Given the fact that he was examining conic sections in his head though, I knew that he had something else planned for that night. When Carlisle returned the following morning, Esme was outside working in her garden. Though she was still afraid to venture into the yard on her own (for fear of catching the scent of some human and going hunting before we could stop her), I knew that she sometimes longed for privacy as well. Therefore, I had convinced her to go outside by herself by stationing myself at an upstairs window and promising not to take my eyes off her so long as she remained outdoors. With my promise in mind, I kept my eyes on Esme when Carlisle came in to wish me good morning.

"All right," I said quietly, "if we speak softly, she can't hear us from down there, so will you please tell me where you really went last night?"

Carlisle didn't speak. Instead, he thought about his interstate journey to Ohio. After hours of running, he'd reached Columbus, where he'd immediately sought out the residence of Charles Evenson.

"What?" I hissed in amazement. Though I kept my eyes on Esme, I watched Carlisle's reflection in the window glass carefully. "What did you—" But I could already see it. Before going to Charles' home, Carlisle had stopped to hunt. He'd killed a deer, drained it of blood…and then he'd taken the corpse to the Evenson house.

"Before I dropped the deer on the doorstep, I slid a letter under the door," Carlisle said quietly.

"A letter," I repeated blankly. "What about?"

"I simply said that I knew what he was, and what he'd done to Esme. I also informed him that I knew where his former wife was, and that if he ever dared to try and find her, contact her, or if he pursued any other woman, I would know, and what I'd done to the deer would seem merciful compared to what I did to him."

The deer, of course, had already been dead when Carlisle had dismembered it, but Charles Evenson hadn't known that. I tried to imagine what his reaction must have been when he opened his front door and saw the scene that Carlisle was picturing in his head: a desiccated carcass, and a note from a mysterious watcher promising violence if he ever came after Esme. How would the man respond to such a thing?

"You only threatened him," I said, though my voice was more shocked than accusing. If I'd been in Carlisle's shoes the previous night, I would have killed Evenson without a second thought.

"It wasn't a threat, it was a guarantee," Carlisle said softly, and though I gave no physical sign of it, inside myself I shivered a little, because in Carlisle's voice was a note of danger that I'd never heard before. I recognized, as I so seldom did, that for all his refinement and the trappings of humanity that he'd so carefully built up around himself, Carlisle was a predator just as much as I was.

"You wanted to kill him," I said slowly, trying to understand. "You were there, you could have done it in a few seconds! So why—"

"Because death would be too easy, too merciful for him," Carlisle said, his voice still unnervingly level and quiet. "Esme doesn't want us to kill him, she's told me so, and I'm determined to respect her wishes, but that isn't the only reason I left him alive, Edward. I want him to live, and to have to think about what he's done. I want him to be afraid, and want him to live in fear of what he saw last night for the rest of his days. I still don't believe it's my place to decide whether a human lives or dies, but I couldn't just stand by and do nothing about this vile excuse for a man."

I simply stared at Carlisle's reflection, too stunned to speak. Though he hadn't dealt with Evenson as I would have, I felt a sort of grim satisfaction that Carlisle had at least done something about Esme's former tormenter.

"Incidentally, I contacted the police in Columbus last night as well," Carlisle continued after a pause. "I told them that I was a cousin of Esme's, and that I thought it strange that I hadn't seen or heard from her in so long. So perhaps they'll decide he murdered her, and at least some sort of justice will be done in this world, by human laws, as it should be. No matter what happens to him though, I can't give Esme back the years he stole from her. So, he may as well be dead to me now. This is the last time I'm even going to mention Charles Evenson, unless she wishes to talk about him."

I couldn't seem to form a response to that statement, so after a few moments of silence, Carlisle left the room and headed outside to speak to Esme. I watched them from the window as Carlisle asked her about the garden, and though I couldn't believe that what Carlisle had done was enough, I was still impressed by his ingenuity. He wasn't, as he put it, "playing God" by taking the life of a human whose actions he found monstrous. Instead, he'd gone to the police in addition to scaring Charles Evenson out of his wits; no human life had been lost, but perhaps, as Carlisle hoped, Evenson's life would now be forever poisoned by fear and suspicion.

Frankly, I thought the measure would only work temporarily; we would have to check on Evenson in a few months or years to make sure that he was still properly subdued. And if I had my way, I still wanted the odious human to meet with "an unfortunate accident" so to speak, but that was an argument that Carlisle and I could have another time. At that moment, I was still marveling at the previously unknown depths there were in Carlisle.

Though the lengths he would apparently go to to punish anyone who had hurt her unnerved me, I also considered it a mark of his devotion to Esme. I wondered if he would ever tell her about what he'd done to Charles, but I guessed that any such confession would be a long time coming. After all, Carlisle couldn't even tell Esme that he loved her yet, let alone reveal the depth of his hatred for her former husband. As I stared down at them, still standing beside the garden, smiling in the morning mist, I couldn't help but wonder what other surprises my father might be capable of, and what might happen in the wake of Carlisle's guarantee.


	215. Festive

Merry Christmas, everyone! (Happy Holidays too—I know that Chanukah lasts until the 28th, and I also know that my friend Sarah, who is Jewish, spent today eating Chinese food and watching bad movies :)). Today's chapter takes place about a year after the events of "Breaking Dawn." I've set a Christmas chapter during this year before, but I never really went into how different 2007 and 2006 would have been for the Cullens. (Christmas in 2007, for obvious reasons, would have been a much more fun Christmas. :)) Thanks as always for your reviews—they're a gift that I'm lucky enough to get to enjoy all year round—and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight" (Happy Belated Birthday to her, by the way), and I hope everyone had a great Christmas! :)

_2007_: Festive

Esme's POV

Esme smiled up at the huge Christmas tree currently dominating the living room. They hadn't had a tree the previous year, for the simple fact that the house had been too full of visiting vampires to admit room for one, and of course, the threat of imminent destruction at the hands of the Volturi had put something of a damper on the usual festive atmosphere of the holiday season. Whenever Esme thought about it, the contrast between this Christmas and the last was rather shocking.

For one thing, Bella's mother and stepfather were visiting. Over the past year, Esme and Carlisle had spoken with Charlie, Renée, and Phil on more than one occasion about the importance of keeping Bella's (and of course Nessie's) existence a secret, and though all of them had taken some convincing, it was now agreed that as far as the rest of the human world was concerned, Bella Cullen was dead. (Renée and Phil were ostensibly visiting Forks to mourn with Charlie and to pay their respects at the monument that the Cullens had had erected in the town cemetery.) In the future, Bella planned to visit her mother and stepfather in places that were both far from Washington and far from Florida, just in case the Volturi were watching, though Esme agreed with Carlisle's assumption, shared cautiously by the rest of the family, that the Volturi had more pressing concerns—concerns like Joham and his growing coven of half-immortals—than Bella's human family.

Though she knew it had to be done, Esme still disliked the cover story that they'd worked to establish for Bella over the past few months. Supposedly, Bella had caught a rare virus while she and Edward were on their honeymoon the previous year; she'd later died after a long illness, been cremated, and supposedly Edward had brought her ashes back to Forks before, in his grief, he'd retired to a monastery, where he planned to spend the rest of his life. All in all, the story seemed so strange and improbable that people accepted that it must be true. And after all, who would dare question such an unmitigated tale of woe?

Esme felt a little guilty about the sad nature of the cover story. It would have been so tragic if it had been true, and Charlie was clearly made uncomfortable by the outpouring of sympathy he'd encountered ever since he'd announced the news of Bella's death at the police station several months before. Carlisle too encountered a lot of pitying looks at the hospital, and Esme knew that he too regretted the necessity of the charade; after all, their lives had never been happier than they were now, thanks to Bella and Nessie. In truth, Esme was impressed Charlie's stoicism. For immortals, it was easy to conceal emotion, but for a human, it must be a struggle to pretend to grieve when, in reality, he got to see both his daughter and granddaughter almost every day.

Esme was certain that Charlie never would have gone along with the story if he hadn't been convinced that doing so would keep Bella and Nessie safe. Renée and Phil had accepted Carlisle's explanation that the Cullen family was part of the witness protection program, and therefore had to carefully guard their identities, but Charlie wasn't so easily fooled. Esme guessed that even Bella's carefree, trusting mother had her suspicions about their family, if only because of Nessie's unnaturally rapid rate of growth. But, no one had mentioned those matters today. Instead, Esme and Carlisle had spent most of the day sitting together by the fire, where they'd watched Nessie open presents, play with her relatives, both human and immortal, and generally have a wonderful time. And as always, Nessie's good mood had been infectious; even Charlie, who was usually (and understandably) edgy when in the presence of so many vampires, had seemed sad to leave when he and Sue had gone home after dinner.

Shutting off the overhead lights in the living room, Esme paused to contemplate the tree as it looked in the darkness, weighted down with ornaments and dozens of strings of colored lights, before glancing toward the staircase. Carlisle had asked her to wait exactly five minutes before going upstairs and meeting him in their room; they'd already exchanged gifts with the rest of the family earlier that day, but now it was after midnight, and everyone else was either asleep (Renée, Phil, and Nessie were all breathing quietly upstairs), or busy with their spouse. Esme was impatient to see what sort of surprise Carlisle had planned, but after such a busy day, it was nice to have a quiet moment to reflect too.

This Christmas had been one of the best of Esme's existence—perhaps even the very best, though she'd thought that every year since she'd married Carlisle, with the exception of the previous two years. It seemed like so much more than two years ago that Edward had left Bella, and the previous year's confrontation with the Volturi also seemed exceedingly far away. Nessie had been up at first light that morning—she'd run from the cottage in her pajamas to help put the finishing touches on the cookies that Esme had been baking that morning. Edward and Bella had still been in bed, and Esme had relished the time alone with her granddaughter, who still turned up her nose at most human food.

"How about this one?" Esme had said, offering Nessie a cookie. "See, it's red. Maybe that will make it easier for you to pretend it tastes like blood."

"Maybe," Nessie had said skeptically, but then, after a careful bite of the cookie, she'd eaten the whole thing happily. By now, Esme had had a lot of experience mixing small quantities of blood into food, then setting it aside just for Nessie. Over the past year, it had gotten to the point that just a few drops of blood in frosting or a bowl of soup could render an otherwise dull, tasteless food palatable to Nessie, who had decided months ago that it was important for her to learn to eat human food. Esme was happy to help with this goal—after all, it was a grandmother's job to cook for her grandchild—but she felt a little guilty about the times that Jacob had accidentally eaten such culinary experiments without knowing about the secret ingredient they contained.

Nessie had returned to the cottage just before sunrise, where she'd opened the stocking that Bella and Edward had set out for her by the fireplace. Bella had enjoyed decorating the cottage in her own style, while Alice had, as was her wont, decorated the main house in grand style. Normally, Esme would have thought the lavish garlands, thousands of lights, and sprigs of mistletoe that seemed to be everywhere were a bit much, but this Christmas, it was easy to share and even encourage Alice's enthusiasm. After all, if things had gone differently with the Volturi, they wouldn't even be around to celebrate Christmas or anything else this year, which was why the holiday, in addition to celebrating love and family, had become a celebration of life itself, and all its wonderful possibilities: possibilities like dear Renesmee.

While Edward, Bella, and Nessie went to Charlie's to open presents with Charlie and Sue, Alice and Rosalie had moved a veritable mountain of presents into the living room. Esme watched Renée and Phil, and then Charlie and Sue, who came over for brunch, regard the huge number of gifts with shock while she and Carlisle (who was learning to cook) set out plates of food for everyone. Most of the boxes for Nessie (from her aunts) contained clothes that they would enjoy watching Nessie wear more than Nessie would actually enjoy wearing, but Esme couldn't fault them for their enthusiasm; after all, Alice and Rosalie bought large quantities of clothing for everyone, and at least Nessie actually outgrew things, so they had a readymade excuse for their excess.

Esme had stuck to mostly practical gifts for her human family members: of course, thanks to Alice's help, it had been easy to find things that everyone would want. Renée apparently loved anything involving coffee, so as a gift from the whole family, Esme had gotten her an espresso machine and numerous accessories, while Phil had been thrilled by four tickets to the Florida Marlins game of his choice.

"The next time you come down, you've gotta go with me!" Phil had said enthusiastically to Carlisle, who had promised to do so with a smile that belied the impossibility of his venturing anywhere near sunny Florida. Meanwhile, Sue was delighted with a new crock pot and a beautiful sweater that Alice had found in Seattle, and Charlie seemed surprised but very pleased by a new fishing pole. (According to Alice, his old pole for ice fishing had broken recently, possibly due to overenthusiastic handling by his granddaughter on their last ice fishing outing.)

Esme was glad that she hadn't gotten Carlisle anything too strange: of course, the gifts she had given him (a first edition of "The History of King Lear," and a painting of an 18th century New York City street that Carlisle had once lived on) were strange enough.

"Is that book a favorite of yours?" Renée had asked. "It looks so old that I'm scared to touch it."

"I saw this play with someone I used to work for once," Carlisle explained with a smile. "I collect antiques—books and paintings mostly—and I've been trying to find a copy of this for a long time."

"By the way, are you related to the guy in that one painting in your office?" Charlie wondered, shifting uncomfortably (perhaps due to the suspicion that it wasn't a relative in the painting). "Jacob showed me the last time we were both over here. There's a guy that looks just like you in one of your oil paintings."

"Yes, he's an ancestor of mine. That painting's part of what got me started collecting art," Carlisle said with a grin, and Esme smiled to herself when she saw Sue pat Charlie's hand sympathetically; neither of them were fooled, but it was easier to pretend to believe the lie than to deal with Carlisle's actual age. Esme had made a mental note then to tell Jacob (whenever he came over to exchange gifts with Nessie) not to tease Charlie, though she knew that he would just laugh off his little joke, and naturally, that's exactly what he'd done.

Of course, what Carlisle had given her was just as unusual as her gifts to him had been.

"Oh, honey, thank you!" Esme had cried happily when she'd unwrapped a new set of power drills. "I just broke my last one a few days ago!"

"That's either the most romantic gift ever or the least. I'm not sure which," Charlie had muttered to Sue, and everyone laughed.

"It's romantic, trust me," Esme had told him. "Usually, I much prefer power tools to jewelry."

"Unless I'm the person picking out the jewelry," Alice had put in, handing Esme a box which turned out to contain a necklace that, naturally, Esme loved.

When Nessie unwrapped her presents, she did what Esme and Carlisle later agreed was an admirable job of pretending to be excited by a seemingly endless pile of clothing. Of course, she'd gotten lots of more conventionally entertaining gifts too: Nessie loved the books her parents and grandparents gave her, as well as an iPod (from Edward and Bella), a sled and a new winter coat (from Esme and Carlisle), several board games and video games (Alice and Jasper), and sports equipment small enough to fit her, including a miniature baseball bat (Rosalie and Emmett). And while most children's toys seemed to puzzle her more than entertain her, Nessie happily played with the various toys that her human grandparents gave to her. Of course, maybe part of the appeal of such gifts (which this year had included several dolls and stuffed toys, a doll house, and a miniature tea set) was forcing Jasper and Emmett to have tea parties with dolls. Esme had to admit that watching her sons pretend to sip tea from tiny pink cups was almost painfully funny, though she and Carlisle, out of pity, had both tried not to laugh too hard.

As with every Christmas, eventually the presents ran out and the job of cleaning up began, though this year, doing so had taken a while. In the living room, Jasper had watched Alice repair a small hole in his new sweater on her new sewing machine, while Edward played Christmas carols. Nessie sat beside him on the piano bench sometimes, though on this, as with every other occasion, Nessie seemed to flit from one group to another effortlessly. One moment, she was sitting between Esme and Carlisle by the fireplace, then she was standing by her mother and grandmother, then she was having a wrapping paper fight with Rosalie and Emmett, and so on. For much of the day, Esme simply sat beside Carlisle, enjoying the festivities going on around them, and though they rarely spoke, there was really nothing to say. He simply held her hand, and together, they enjoyed a thoroughly wonderful Christmas.

Later in the day, some of the wolves had come over, and Esme had made a huge Christmas lunch. After that, there was Christmas dinner, when Carlisle, Edward, Bella, Renée, and Sue all helped her cook, and then those who could eat had before everyone went outside to play with Nessie, and then it started to snow, and after hot chocolate for anyone who could drink the stuff, the day was over, and everyone had retired to their rooms. Esme smiled at the thought of privacy and quiet. Five minutes had finally passed, and it was time to go up and see what Carlisle had planned for a final Christmas surprise.

Moving silently up the stairs, Esme tried not to listen to whatever might be going on in her children's bedrooms. She was already smiling when she reached the bedroom door, and when she opened it and stepped inside, she let out a surprised laugh of delight. In the center of their bedroom was a brand new bed, and Carlisle was sitting on it, wearing nothing but a large bow that he'd managed to tie to a ribbon wrapped around the length of the bed, as though it were a giant package.

"I've had this hidden in the attic for weeks," Carlisle explained with a smile. "Of course, power drills are the sort of practical gift you love, but I also thought you might enjoy a piece of furniture purchased for the express purpose of breaking it."

"We've gone through a lot of beds this way over the years," Esme said with a fond smile, closing the door behind her and reaching back to unzip her dress. "You know, it's after midnight, so technically, Christmas is over."

"Happy 26th of December then," Carlisle said with a grin. "You aren't going to make me destroy this bed on my own, are you?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Esme said, joining him on the bed with a smile. "Still, I almost hate to remove that bow of yours. It makes you look so…festive."

Of course, Esme later had to admit that the bow looked just as festive on the floor of their bedroom.


	216. Wonderful

Hi everyone! Sorry for updating two days late; I didn't really do anything over New Year's, but somehow, the time got away from me. (Plus, I'm still looking for a job—soon, I might be substitute teaching, or I might find a library job, but who knows...). This week's chapter takes place about halfway through "Breaking Dawn" (the book, not the movie), when everyone is taking care of Nessie while Bella undergoes the transformation process. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm hoping to see "Breaking Dawn" one more time while it's still in theaters. (My aunt and I had fun when we went last week, by the way; my aunt is a big "TrueBlood" fan though, so I had to explain a lot of the differences between the two series. :))

_2006_: Wonderful

Rosalie's POV

Though the smell of dog permeating the room was a bit off-putting (Jacob Black refused to leave), even that couldn't make this moment any less perfect. Rosalie couldn't help but grin as she gently took Renesmee from Emmett, then passed her to Esme, whose face shone with wonder as she held her granddaughter for the first time. Carlisle, who stood beside her, having just gone upstairs to check on Bella, looked just as rapt as he stared at the baby.

"Oh, she's so beautiful!" Esme breathed, the sound of tears in her voice.

"I don't think I've stopped staring at her since Edward handed her to me," Rosalie admitted, smiling at the object of her sudden and intense love. "Really, I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that she's definitely the prettiest baby in the world."

"She's got Bella's eyes," Esme whispered.

"But her hair is like Edward's," Carlisle murmured, stroking the top of Renesmee's head.

"How do you like her name?" Rosalie asked with a sly grin. "I tried to talk Bella into something more…conventional, but…"

"I think it's lovely," Esme said. "But then, I'm a little biased."

"It's unique," Carlisle said, grinning as Esme passed him the baby. "I like it. Hello, Renesmee."

Renesmee made a happy sort of baby cooing sound and smiled up at her grandparents.

"She's so big already," Esme whispered in amazement. "No wonder Bella had such a hard time."

"Alice and Jasper left while you two were out of the room to go get her some clothes," Rosalie said, smoothing the side of the blanket that Renesmee was currently wrapped in. "We just never had the chance before, and now I'm glad that we didn't buy anything for a newborn."

"You're right, she already looks a few months old," Carlisle said, still grinning in wonderment down at his granddaughter. "It's amazing—she has her teeth already."

"Yes, apparently she bit Bella before she ever bit the dog," Rosalie said, nodding reluctantly in Jacob's direction. Jacob Black was sitting a few feet away, devouring the plate of food that Esme had fixed him when she'd gone to the kitchen to heat up some blood for Renesmee. Either he was smart enough to know that the less he spoke, the less irritated she'd be by his unwelcome presence in the house (and in Renesmee's hours old life), or else he was so hungry that he couldn't do anything at the moment but eat and stare at the baby.

_Imprinting, ugh,_ Rosalie thought with a scowl, but then she smiled involuntarily as she looked at Renesmee again.

"So Bella's all right?" Esme asked, looking away from Renesmee to speak to Carlisle. "Other than the obvious, I mean."

"Actually, the morphine seems to have worked," Carlisle said, glancing upward at the sound of Edward pacing upstairs. "She doesn't seem to be in any pain, but just the same, I don't think Edward's going to leave her side until she opens her eyes again."

"We're home!" Alice shouted, suddenly slamming the front door behind her as she raced into the room with several shopping bags in her hands, Jasper right behind her carrying more. "Of course, we'll have to go to Seattle soon to get more, but I was pleasantly surprised at how many cute baby clothes I was able to find in Forks."

"What, Seattle has different baby clothes than here?" Emmett wondered. "Or is that a stupid question?"

"No comment, Em," Rosalie said, smiling sympathetically at him.

"Jasper can't tell the difference either," Alice said, shaking her head as if in pity. "It's sort of sad really, how oblivious to some things men can be."

Carlisle tried to pass Renesmee to Alice. "I assume you've already picked out an outfit for her."

"Yes, but I have to wash it first, so you can hold onto her until then," Alice said, rolling her eyes at him. "Really Carlisle, as much as you know about most things, sometimes I worry that your wisdom is never going to extend to clothing."

"Sorry," Carlisle said, grinning down at his granddaughter again. "I can see that there's going to be a learning curve regarding the proper care of baby clothes."

Rosalie smiled fondly at her parents, siblings, husband, and her niece. Though she knew, on some level, that her desire for a child of her own would never completely go away, just seeing Renesmee surrounded by her family and knowing how loved she was by everyone made Rosalie feel almost giddy with happiness. Nessie wasn't hers, but that knowledge didn't fill her with envy or resentment as she might have once expected; rather, Rosalie was grateful to Bella and happy that she'd soon be a true member of the family.

She knew that she could never be a mother, but being an aunt was more than Rosalie ever could have hoped for. Somehow, it felt like the arrival of Renesmee was making every member of the family feel happier, and more accepting of their immortality, regardless of its limitations. After all, with a child in their midst, suddenly everyone had more to consider than the human lives they'd lived in the past or the difficulties of the present: with a growing baby suddenly a part of their lives, Rosalie realized that her family had an unpredictable and infinitely more rewarding future to look forward to as well. Renesmee was just that wonderful.


	217. Fort

Hi everyone! Sorry for disappearing for a week, but I'm getting ready to start a new job (as a substitute teacher, which is what I'll be until I find something full-time), and I've got an interview on Tuesday, so I've been a bit stressed/excited/distracted by all of that. This week's chapter is a fun one (Emmett chapters usually are). Since there wasn't much snowy weather where I am (Michigan) when I wrote this chapter, I thought it would be fun to at least imagine a playful, wintery day in Forks. Of course, now we actually have snow, so I don't need to imagine it anymore...:) (Also, I know that not everyone likes Nessie, so I apologize for having three chapters in a row in which she's featured prominently. Next week, I'll have a nice and fluffy Carlisle and Esme chapter for you, promise. :)) Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," AND I CAN'T WAIT TO GET "BREAKING DAWN" ON DVD! THE DIFFERENT BOXES AT DIFFERENT STORES ARE ALL SO PRETTY! :)

_2008_: Fort

Emmett's POV

It was January, and the foot of snow on the ground, combined with the temperature hovering just above freezing, meant that it was an ideal time for an epic snowball fight. Of course, in the heat of a furious campaign, Emmett sometimes ended up throwing rocks and boulders at his siblings rather than snowballs, but where was the harm in that? Of course, now that Nessie was participating in such activities, at least a modicum of caution was required. (Also, time outs were necessary, since even Nessie eventually got tired).

"Okay, so no throwing ice either, I get it," Emmett said, chuckling at Edward's long-suffering expression. Bella was laughing as she picked chips of ice out of her husband's hair—he'd blocked Emmett's most recent attack for fear that the chunk of ice he'd thrown might travel through the wall of Nessie's fort (which he and Bella were protecting) and hit her. Nessie, who was busy stockpiling snowballs, seemed oblivious to Emmett's failed assault on the fort.

"Thanks, Emmett," Edward said drily. "She's almost indestructible, but I'd rather not find out where 'almost' ends, all right?"

"Overprotective much?" Emmett said with a grin. After all, Edward needn't have worried; Emmett and Nessie had thrown rocks at each other before (never big ones) when they'd played other games together. When he thought about it though, Emmett decided that Edward probably didn't need to know that.

"Are you guys talking about how fragile I am out there?" Nessie demanded.

"Yes, honey," Bella called, still chuckling. "Sorry, but we have our quota of parental worry to fill for the day."

"Okay," Nessie said with a sigh. "But hurry up and finish worrying so we can start again."

"Yeah!" Emmett said, racing away to join Rosalie behind their own snow fort. "And get ready to lose this next round!"

"You know, I'm inclined to be overprotective of her too," Rosalie pointed out, giving him a warning look, though she was smiling as she spoke. "No throwing rocks or ice at my niece."

"I know, and tossing her into the river isn't allowed either," Emmett said dutifully. "See, I can be a responsible uncle, at least occasionally."

"Thank you," Rosalie said, leaning over and giving him a quick kiss, which almost made Emmett think that they should just forget about the snowball fight and go off on their own, but then he felt something cold graze the top of his head.

"That was a warning shot!" Bella shouted. "So get ready!"

Emmett grinned, then chucked a snowball over the wall of the fort in retaliation. "We're ready when you are!"

"Ready to throw snow at each other, yes, I always love these displays of our collective immaturity," Rosalie said, shaping a snowball in her hands with a wry smile.

"Oh, you always complain at first, but in the end, you get just as competitive as the rest of us."

"I do n—" Rosalie started, but then a snowball struck her in the side of the face.

"Gotcha, Rose!" a cheerful voice shouted from the trees behind them.

"Alice!" Rosalie snarled, taking off to confront her attacker. "I'll get you for that!"

Emmett laughed, then took off to find Jasper; if Alice was close, then so was he. Snowball wars usually went like this; everyone rushed around, pelting each other with snowballs until there was no snow left, and the battle only ended after the ground had been reduced to a soggy, muddy mess, leaving Esme to lament the sad state of the lawn's appearance come spring. Of course, this year, Jacob Black was rushing around with them too, alternately guarding Nessie's fort and tackling vampires. Emmett, who remembered the dogs he'd played with as a human, had to admit that at times like this, it was a lot of fun to have a werewolf around, though Jacob inexplicably didn't appreciate being compared to a pet.

Just as Emmett had finally managed to creep up behind Nessie's fort, hoping to surprise his niece with several well-thrown snowballs, he found himself attacked from above by an avalanche of snow. Sputtering and shaking ice and pine needles out of his hair, he glared up at Carlisle and Esme, who were perched on a tree limb together, laughing.

"Nice shot!" Emmett called, sending a snowball in their direction, which they easily dodged. "Not really a legal move, though. Shouldn't you be setting a better example for your children?"

"The rules regarding snowball fights are, unfortunately, very sketchy and therefore easily ignored," Carlisle responded, shaking snow off another pine bough, which Emmett dodged easily as it crashed to the ground beside him.

"Aren't you a little old for this, dad?" Emmett said, grinning as he sent another snowball flying at them, which Esme blocked easily with a gloved hand.

"No parent is ever too old to attack their children with snow, Emmett," she said with a smile. Grinning, Emmett turned just in time to hit Edward, who'd been sneaking up behind him, square in the face with a snowball. However, since Nessie was sitting on her father's shoulders, Emmett suddenly found himself blinded by snow too.

"Gotcha!" Nessie shouted. "Come get me if you can, Uncle Emmett!"

Emmett grinned and pursued the sound of Nessie's voice as he and Edward struggled to wipe snow out of their eyes. "I'm right behind you!" he said menacingly, which made Nessie squeal with laughter. As was always the case in these situations, the carefully constructed snow forts had been abandoned, as had whatever teams had existed to begin with (though spouses, Emmett noted, seemed to rarely attack each other), and hilarious chaos reigned. In a day or so, it would rain again, and the snow would melt, and most of the family's winter clothing would be packed away again for next year's charade of being susceptible to cold, but until then, Emmett was grateful for the chance to enjoy the snowy weather with his family. And anyway, they could always go up to Alaska and visit the Denalis sometime if anyone (namely Nessie) wanted to make another snow fort.


	218. Beach

Hi everyone! This week's chapter is, as promised last week, nice and fluffy. Since it's January, I decided it would be nice to have Carlisle and Esme go to the beach, and since cold isn't an issue for them, why not have them go in the middle of winter? :) Also, you may want to Google "From Here To Eternity" at some point while reading this chapter if you aren't familiar with the iconic scene from that movie. This chapter was inspired by the fact that I'm currently reading a book that explains, in part, why that classic movie moment is really not something you should try in real life...:) Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there's only about a month left before we can watch "Breaking Dawn" Part 1 on DVD! So excited! :)

_1954_: Beach

Carlisle's POV

It was a cold night in January, and technically, the beach was closed, but it was nearly three in the morning, and no humans were likely to venture anywhere near the mostly frozen expanse of Lake Michigan that night, so the two figures strolling hand and hand through the dunes weren't concerned with being spotted. Carlisle had worked several extra shifts that week, so now that he finally had a night off, he'd been delighted by Esme's suggestion that they go for a long walk, just the two of them, along the beach that, for safety's sake, they could only visit in inclement weather. In the distance, the silhouette of the huge dune that was the origin of the name "Sleeping Bear Dunes" looked ghostly under a thin layer of snow, and though waves crashed in the distance, the water closest to shore had turned to motionless ice.

Carlisle smiled at Esme as she pulled him down onto the snow-covered sand to sit beside her. They both loved this place for its beauty, but also for the silence and privacy it afforded them, since it was always quiet when they came here. They'd never been able to come to this or any beach on any of the busy, sunny days of summer, when the place was crowded with humans swimming, fishing, relaxing, flirting, and generally enjoying the few weeks each year when the lake grew warm enough for the dunes to become a popular spot for recreation.

"This was a wonderful idea," Carlisle said, kissing the corner of her mouth as they listened to the wind rushing over the frozen landscape.

Esme smiled. "Well, the house is a bit noisy at the moment, what with Emmett and Rosalie busy packing up to move, so I thought some quiet might be nice."

"It's very nice," Carlisle agreed, kissing her again. "We've both had a busy week."

They talked for a while then about the events of the past few days. Esme was busy restoring some antique furniture for an auction coming up in March, and Carlisle had barely been home since Monday, so they'd hardly seen each other in days, and it was fun to catch up. Carlisle always relished this aspect of his relationship with Esme: it seemed that the longer they knew each other, the more he wanted to know about her, and the more he enjoyed the simple pleasure of her company. A conversation like this, after days of hurried kisses in the hallway before work, or quiet rendezvouses in their bedroom after a busy day, was a bit like falling in love all over again.

"Remember when we saw "From Here To Eternity" back in November?" Carlisle finally asked. "A new doctor started work this week, and since we look to be about the same age, he keeps seeking me out so we can chat. Since we're going to be moving in a few weeks anyway, I haven't discouraged him much—anyway, he's from Tampa, and according to him, in the past two months, he's seen several cases of teenagers coming to the emergency room after…well, _recreating_ the beach scene in that film."

Esme raised her eyebrows. "You mean the part where they kiss on the beach and the waves hit them? How could doing that end in a hospital visit?"

"Well, for humans, let me just say that sand and sexual intercourse don't mix, or at least, they shouldn't."

Esme stared at him for a moment in amazement, then doubled over laughing, as Carlisle had expected she might.

"Oh, but that's too bad, really," Esme chuckled, trying to look contrite. "I mean, the girls especially. Ouch."

"It's the abrasive nature of the sand, but I'm afraid it's the bacteria that sand contains too," Carlisle said, shaking his head, though he too couldn't keep from smiling. "Lots of unpleasant things get filtered out of any body of water by the sand that surrounds it, and when harmful bacteria like that enter the body or abrade the skin, they can really cause problems. According to Dr. Laramie, most people he saw came in days or sometimes weeks after a big date at the beach and wondered why they'd been feeling sick or uncomfortable. In most cases, the things they caught were relatively straightforward to treat, but not always."

Esme shook her head. "It's sort of depressing really, how an idea can seem romantic in the abstract but be a terrible idea in practice."

Carlisle nodded. "My new friend tells me that intercourse at the beach is nothing new among teenagers, but since "From Here To Eternity" was released, he did see a slight spike in the popularity of that activity. I have to wonder if it's the sort of thing that's going to happen more up here too, once summer comes."

"You and I don't have to worry about bacteria though," Esme said with a playful smile. "And though I'd prefer we be careful of sand, I know from experience that it won't bother me the way it would some poor human girl after a lakeside tryst."

Carlisle grinned. "I confess, I did consider our own experiences in waterfront liaisons when Dr. Laramie told me about the dangers of humans doing the same. And of course, no one at home will wonder at our absence until—"

Esme cut him off by kissing him, and after a great deal of gasping, wanton destruction of clothing, and rolling around in the sand and snow, they lay side by side, looking up at the sky and the few stars that peeked through the clouds as it started to snow.

"You know, even without the risk of hypothermia, I can see how this sort of thing might be dangerous for humans," Esme said, and Carlisle laughed.

"Of course, now we're in danger of one or more of our children spotting us sneaking into the house just before dawn wearing very little clothing," he pointed out. "Though I'm sure Alice has seen us already."

Esme smiled serenely. "A lovely night at the beach is worth some risks, don't you think?"

Carlisle grinned and pulled her close again. "It's most definitely worth it."


	219. Chores

Hi everyone! This week's chapter is set right after Edward and Bella's wedding in "Breaking Dawn." While I think that might have been a slightly nerve wracking time for the Cullens, what with having their house full of humans, I also think that it might have been fun, even for Jasper, to pretend to be a human family in the presence of their new in-laws. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm really excited to see "Breaking Dawn" again! Hmm, maybe I should preorder it…:)

_2006_: Chores

Jasper's POV

Edward and Bella had, at long last, left for their honeymoon, and though the rest of the human guests had departed, Bella's parents and stepfather were still sitting in the living room with Carlisle and Esme, drinking coffee and discussing the day. Jasper could smell them before he heard them; he and Emmett had gone upstairs to change out of their suits, but for want of anything else to do while they waited for their wives, they rejoined their parents in the living room. It was an amusing novelty to have humans in the house, and after a day marked by the inescapable smell of humans, Jasper was pleased to find that his throat burned less than he'd expected it would. Just as soon as Alice and Rosalie changed their clothes, they'd all go hunting though, just to be safe. Of course, they couldn't simply say that in present company.

"As soon as the girls are ready, we're going out, if that's okay," Emmett announced, giving Carlisle and Esme a look that Jasper guessed was supposed to be Emmett's idea of what teenagers looked like when they asked their parents for permission to do things. In reality, of course, he was trying to suppress a grin, which Jasper too had to work to conceal.

"Be careful, and don't stay out too late," Esme said, a perfect motherly smile in place. Jasper smiled in return—Esme, having more practice, was much more convincing at this than he and Emmett were.

"And no drinking, okay guys?" Charlie said, giving Jasper and Emmett what was clearly his stern cop look. "Seriously, it's been a long day. I don't want to be the one who has to call your parents if you get in trouble."

"Don't worry, Charlie," Carlisle said confidently. "These two know what will happen if they do any drinking before they're twenty-one."

Jasper smiled. "It has something to do with washing your car every week for the rest of our lives, right?"

"Yeah, and doing the dishes for a year," Emmett said with a grin, and Jasper stifled a chuckle. Of course, this whole scenario was ridiculous: he and Emmett couldn't drink and drive, or if they did, alcohol wouldn't affect them; they were members of a family that never dirtied dishes; and they were both far older than twenty-one. Charlie though, who knew none of this, seemed appeased.

"Since neither of you can wash a dish properly, please listen to your father and save us from a year's worth of greasy cutlery," Esme said with a smile.

Renée laughed. "Why make them do dishes? You two look like you must be pretty good at yard work. And it's going to take a lot of work to clean up the mess leftover from the reception..."

"Hmm, that's a good point," Esme said. "Guys, we hired a cleaning crew, but if you cause any trouble tonight, getting the yard back to normal is going to be your job."

Emmett and Jasper both groaned at the very thought, barely having to feign disgust. There was no cleaning crew, of course. After Charlie, Renée, and Phil left, the whole family was going to clean up Alice's decorations. With everyone working together, it wouldn't take long, but Jasper imagined having to do the job with only Emmett for company—it really was an unpleasant thought, since he'd been hoping to sneak off with Alice for a bit and compliment her again on the success of the wedding, and perhaps he'd also have time to praise the garter she'd gotten back from Bella earlier that day…

"What kind of chores do you guys usually do around here?" Renée asked. "I mean, I'm hoping you help cook, given how much teenage boys generally eat."

"They don't," Carlisle said with a chuckle. "I mean, they can order takeout, but that's about the extent of their culinary abilities, and I'm afraid I'm not much better. Things get tough whenever Esme's out of town on business."

"Yeah, cooking is more Edward's thing," Emmett said with a grin. "Guess we're probably going to starve to death now that he's gone if mom isn't home either."

"That's what pizza's for, Emmett," Jasper said with a smile, cringing inwardly at the thought of pizza. He'd spent too many years sitting in school cafeterias pretending to eat pizza to think of it with anything but distaste.

"Emmett and Jasper's chores primarily consist of doing their own laundry and keeping their rooms from becoming total pits," Esme explained with an indulgent smile. "The girls pretty much do the same, though they can cook a little, but they prefer to eat out too.

"Laundry skills must come in handy now that you're in college," Phil said with a laugh. "I was pretty lost when I first moved out of my parents' house. It took me half my first semester to learn how to do a load of laundry without ruining any of my clothes."

"Yeah, laundry was tough for me too," Charlie agreed. "Hell, now that Bella's gone, I'm probably going to have to learn all over again."

Jasper glanced at Emmett and then they both looked away quickly for fear of snickering. The very thought of Edward and Bella on their honeymoon could be enough to send them both into peals of laughter if they weren't careful. Jasper loved Edward, and he sympathized with his brother's uneasiness regarding physical intimacy with his wife, but it was rather ironic that after decades of life as a bachelor, Edward had ended up marrying a woman who was less worried about sex than he was. Of course, it wasn't as though Bella could accidentally kill Edward mid-coitus, but still, Jasper couldn't help but admire his new sister's apparent matter-of-factness about the fact that, if at all possible, she wanted to have a real honeymoon.

"We're ready!" Alice called cheerfully, bounding down the stairs, dressed in a skirt and sweater now, which Jasper found just as fetching as the dress she'd worn earlier. "And before you say anything—mom, dad—we won't be out too late."

"How can you guys have any energy left after today?" Renée wondered.

"Honestly, we're probably just going to get coffee, and then depending on how well the caffeine works, maybe we'll drive to Port Angeles and see a movie," Rosalie said with a winning smile.

"Be sure to pull over or give us a call if all of you get too tired to drive," Esme said, winking too quickly for the three humans in the room to notice.

"Don't worry, we'll be careful," Jasper promised, putting his arm around Alice as he and his siblings said goodbye to Bella's human family. Then they walked to the garage at a human pace, got into Emmett's jeep, and then all four of them burst out laughing.

"I know that we're not going to get to hang out with them much, if at all, after this," Emmett said with a snicker, "but you gotta admit, it's pretty fun to have a bunch of humans around. And the fact that they're related to Bella just makes them even more entertaining, somehow."

"Well, I hope you've had your fill of fun at the expense of humans for a while, because Bella isn't going to be human for much longer," Alice said confidently. "I don't know when exactly Edward's going to do it, but as soon as the honeymoon's over…"

"Come on, let's go," Rosalie said impatiently. "I've had to make small talk with humans all day, and now I'm thirsty."

"Where should we hide the jeep so Chief Swan doesn't happen upon it?" Jasper wondered.

Emmett grinned. "I figured we'd drive a couple miles into the woods, then park and hunt. I know it's faster to go the whole way on foot, but the noise this thing makes when we take it off road is always pretty satisfying."

Rosalie chuckled. "You know, you have an endearing, if slightly unnerving yen for destruction."

Alice laid her head against Jasper's shoulder as Emmett sped off, and as the jeep clipped a tree branch on the way down the driveway, Jasper smiled when he thought that at least yard work wasn't one of his fictional chores.


	220. Demonstration

Hi everyone! Sorry for not updating last week, but I had a good excuse: I finally have a new job! Last week, I drove out there to visit the place where I'll be working, and though it's a bit far from my family, I think that once I get used to the town and the people, I'm really going to enjoy it. :) Anyway, this week's chapter is one I've wanted to do for a while: pretty much ever since I first saw "Eclipse," actually, because I love the idea of Carlisle and Esme having a playful sparring match. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of "Twilight," and I did end up preordering "Breaking Dawn." (I'm getting the one where the DVD case is modeled after Bella's wedding dress, though obviously the DVD came out Friday, and it isn't here yet, so that's a slight drawback...oh well, maybe I can save it to watch after I've moved into my new apartment. :))

_2007_: Demonstration

Jacob's POV

It was almost the end of the summer, and I was over at the Cullens' place with Seth, Quil, Embry, and most of Sam's pack, including Collin, Brady, Jared, and Paul, who was in a disturbingly cheerful mood after his date with my sister the night before. She was taking summer classes again this year, because she wanted to finish her degree early, so Paul kept driving (or sometimes just running) to Seattle to visit her in her apartment. Paul, because he does have half a brain in his head, didn't volunteer any details of the previous evening's visit, and I didn't ask, because I didn't want to think about anything Paul and Rachel might do when they were alone—I was eating, and it would have been a waste to puke up so much delicious food.

The day was warm and cloudy, and every now and then, it would start to rain, so we were all sitting on the back porch, devouring a huge and seemingly endless lunch that Esme had prepared for us. Judging by the number of hotdogs, burgers, sandwiches, salads, cookies, chips, and sodas that she'd brought out so far, Esme was trying to see if it was physically possible to get us to the point where we weren't hungry for once. If that was her plan, it was working—though I was nibbling at a cookie, I was basically full, an unheard of event that Billy would be happy to hear about when I went home later. He _said_ that he was going to miss me when I went out east with the Cullens next year, but I was pretty sure that he wasn't going to be all that sorry to not have me around eating all the food in our house for a few months.

The idea that I was going to be living somewhere else in little over a year's time was still something that I was trying to get used to. The move to the east coast was something that had been planned because Carlisle had a teaching job lined up for next year, and Edward and Bella were planning to go to Dartmouth for a semester—they didn't plan to go to school full-time until after Nessie had grown up, but everyone was looking forward to the change of scenery, even if it was just for a few months. Carlisle and Esme had actually just gotten back a few days before from a trip to visit some of their vampire friends who'd come to help with the confrontation with the Volturi last year. They'd been all over the place: Europe, South America, and of course they'd gone up to Alaska to check in with the Denalis. It was hard for me to imagine traveling to so many places so far away. After living in La Push all my life, Dartmouth seemed impossibly far from home.

I stared at the river as I picked up another cookie—the others were still too busy eating to talk much, and I was too busy thinking to want to talk. Emily had been asking us to go over to the Cullens' more and more lately—none of us minded, but we'd all noticed that she'd seemed sort of tired. I was on the verge of asking Carlisle to go over to Sam and Emily's place, just to check on her, when Leah pointed out, rolling her eyes at the ignorance of boys, that Sam and Emily had been married for a few months now. As soon as she'd reminded me of that, it seemed obvious—Sam and Emily might have a kid on the way. They hadn't said anything to anyone yet, but it seemed pretty likely that that was what was going on. Sam had been acting weird lately too, after all—he was staying home with Emily a lot more, and he'd been looking for a job in Forks—now that there were no more dangerous bloodsuckers around, Alpha werewolf was no longer a full-time occupation.

None of us wanted to mention our suspicions to Sam; for most of the guys, it was still kind of hard to believe that he and Emily were really married. They'd had the wedding back in late February—they'd originally planned to wait longer, but after the whole thing with the Volturi at the end of last year, Sam and Emily had agreed that life was too short, and there were too many murderous vampires in the world to risk waiting any longer for something that they both really wanted. Ever since then, they'd been trying to live a basically normal life—Emily was taking college classes online, and Sam had continued to take care of his pack, which was larger than mine, and included younger kids. All of us were hoping that with the Volturi gone, no one else would phase, and that Sam could find a job soon and start being a normal husband—that was what he wanted, both for Emily and for himself. And there was no question that Sam would make a good dad whenever he and Emily did have kids.

It was still strange though, thinking that they might really have a baby on the way now—that Sam and Emily could be parents in a few months time. I mean, Sam was only a few years older than the rest of us. Somehow, the fact that Edward and Bella had gotten married and had a kid almost a year ago didn't seem nearly as strange—sure, Bella had been really young, but Bella had never really seemed like a normal teenager. We'd made a lot of jokes about age, sure, but I'd been more than half serious when I agreed that Bella seemed like she was in her thirties. And of course, Paul and Rachel would probably get married once Rachel finished school and Paul decided what to do with his life when he was done with the werewolf thing. It was impossibly weird to have so much stuff changing for the people around me now that, physically at least, I was frozen as I was for the foreseeable future. Forever maybe, if Nessie was really going to stop aging once she grew up. Everyone I knew was going to get older, and get married and have kids maybe…and get old, and die...yikes.

I shook my head. Maybe it was inevitable that hanging out with vampires all the time would make me a little morbid.

"Are you going to eat that cookie, or are you trying to make it move with your mind, Jake?" Embry asked. I glanced at the uneaten cookie in my hand for a second before I chucked it at him, hard, but of course he snatched it out of the air and ate it in one bite.

"Thanks," he said through a mouthful of crumbs. Just then, Esme came outside with a huge plate of cookies in one hand and a gallon of milk in the other.

"Would anyone like a bit more dessert?" she asked, laughing when a couple of the guys actually groaned.

"Are you trying to kill us with food or something, Esme?" Quil wondered.

Esme laughed. "I'm just trying to give your poor parents a break from having to feed you for a change, though I know perfectly well that all of you are going to be hungry again by the time you go home, no matter how much food I give you."

"By the way, my mom says thanks for making us lunch today, Mrs. Cullen," Embry said with a smile, and the rest of us echoed that statement. Billy's old unease about the Cullens had virtually vanished ever since they'd drastically reduced his grocery bill by feeding me on a regular basis.

"It's sort of hard to believe how freaked out_ some of us_ used to get about the idea of ever being in vampire territory," Jared wondered quietly, looking pointedly at Collin, who smacked Jared in the arm before smiling sheepishly at Esme.

"No offense, Mrs. Cullen, but this time last year, I was kind of worried about living so close to vampires," Collin said. "Now, though I'm really not seeing how you guys could have ever seemed scary."

"That's just because you've never seen them do anything scary," Paul said, grinning. "When they're fighting, or hunting too, trust me, they're almost as fast as us, and they're probably stronger than we are." Turning to Esme, Paul said, "why don't you and Carlisle show this kid what I mean sometime? In a fight, I bet you'd beat him—I mean, he's bigger, but you're probably faster."

I was a little worried that Esme wouldn't like Paul's suggestion—I remembered the battle with the newborns, and though Esme had done her best like everyone else, it had been clear that she hadn't enjoyed even a second of that day. Carlisle hadn't either—they'd stuck close to each other for almost the whole fight, and I never saw them attack anyone who didn't attack them first. But actually, Esme looked sort of amused by the suggestion.

"Carlisle should be home soon," she said thoughtfully. "I suppose that a little friendly sparring couldn't hurt. Both of us _are_ rather out of practice…"

I rolled my eyes while the other guys started eagerly making bets on who would win in a fight—Carlisle or Esme. I knew Esme well enough to realize that for her, pretending to fight Carlisle wouldn't be a chance for some kind of demonstration of skills; it would be a game, an exercise in flirting more than fighting prowess. Sure enough, when Carlisle's car rolled down the driveway a few minutes later and Esme went to tell him about Paul's bright idea, when they came back, they were both looking way too cheerful for my taste.

"Esme told me about your suggestion, Paul, and I think we're both up for a little friendly competition," Carlisle said with a smile.

"You're not allowed to actually bet money on this though," Esme ordered, and the rest of the guys groaned.

"Oh boy," I muttered. "Get ready for a public display of affection disguised as a fight."

Carlisle and Esme both jumped over the porch railing and then took their places on the lawn, standing about twenty yards from each other so they could get a running start.

"Be careful, you guys!" Seth called, and the rest of us snickered.

"Seth, aside from the fact that they'd never hurt each other, even accidentally, they're practically indestructible," I pointed out.

"Still," Seth said defensively, "couldn't they, like, knock a limb off or something?"

"I'm thinking no, Seth," Jared said, rolling his eyes.

"Okay, ready?" Paul called. "Get set…go!"

Of course, the guys got all excited for a sparring match that lasted approximately thirty seconds. Our eyes are better as wolves, so as humans, we could barely keep up as Carlisle and Esme ducked and weaved around each other, each trying to grab their opponent. At one point, they bounded up into the trees, disappearing for a few seconds as they chased each other through the boughs of the huge cedars that surrounded the house, and when they returned to the ground, they were both laughing.

"Hey!" I called after Carlisle managed to catch Esme from behind and kiss her on the temple before she slipped away. "Are you guys flirting or fighting?"

"See? Vampires are totally scary, Collin," Paul said, rolling his eyes. "They're so powerful that they can choose to use their awesome fighting moves as a make-out gambit."

All in all, it was an entertaining, though not very educational demonstration of how vampires fight. Hopefully, the younger guys would never need to get any firsthand combat experience with bloodsuckers like the Volturi, but it couldn't hurt for them to see that as normal as they sometimes seemed, the Cullens were also super fast, extremely powerful, and way nicer than any other vampires they'd ever run into. I smiled when I thought of Nessie, who was out shopping with Bella and Edward; she was going to be sorry that she'd missed her grandparents' demonstration.


	221. Shopping

Hi everyone! This week's chapter is (I think) a reader suggestion, and I'm surprised that I didn't get to it sooner: it's just Alice and Esme having their first bit of mother-daughter time after Alice and Jasper joined the Cullens. (I imagine that Carlisle and Jasper would have both felt pretty nervous watching their wives go off together…)

Also, because a few of you requested it, in the future, I will definitely have to do another chapter in which Carlisle and Esme practice fighting together (next time I'll give more details :)). Thanks as always for your reviews, and since I'm going to be moving on Thursday, I'm going to take the week off from fanfic (sort of—I might start a few chapters, but I don't expect I'll have the time to finish anything in the midst of unpacking). So, I'll see you again in two weeks with a new chapter! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and she finally updated her website! Huzzah! So I'm going to go ahead and hope that maybe she'll have a new book out next year. Seriously, no matter what her next book is about, I'm going to have to go out at midnight and buy it. Whenever it comes out…sometime in the future…:)

_1950_: Shopping

Alice's POV

As Alice hopped into the passenger seat of Esme's car, she couldn't help but glance back at the house and give Jasper a reassuring smile as she waved to him. Carlisle was watching too, from the window in his office, and after Esme had waved to him and started the car, she and Alice turned to look at each other. Then they both burst out laughing.

"I think they're both a little nervous about this," Esme said with a smile.

"Definitely," Alice agreed. "Of course, Carlisle is a lot more trusting than Jasper, but it seems that both our husbands are afraid that this shopping trip is really a sinister trap, and that one of us is going to murder the other."

Esme chuckled as she steered the car out onto the main road. "When Rosalie first joined our family, there were a couple of dress shopping incidents that I thought might end in murder, but so far, I've been lucky. So I'll take my chances with you, Alice."

Alice grinned. She'd only known Esme for a few days, but already, she was very fond of her. Since she couldn't remember her human family, Esme was fast becoming Alice's ideal sort of mother/older sister figure. Though she knew that technically, Esme was a mother to Edward and the others, so often in movies and in novels, mothers were stern, frumpy people, and Esme was far from that. So even though Alice knew that eventually, Esme really would be a mother to her, for now, the matriarch of the Cullen family seemed too young and pretty to be anything but a sister.

"So, what are Rosalie and Emmett going to get up to today?" Esme asked, as casually as if she'd asked what the weather might be like that afternoon.

Alice considered the question. "After class is over, they'll probably go see a movie. Then they'll go hunting, and when they come home…well, you probably don't want to hear the details of that."

Esme shook her head sympathetically. "Sorry, I'm sure you don't want to know the details either. You and Edward are so alike that way. You both know more about the personal lives of the couples you live with than you'd really like to."

Alice shrugged. "It's not so bad. I can sort of divert my attention from a vision sometimes if I see that something private is about to happen, but Edward always has to hear what people are thinking, doesn't he?"

Esme nodded. "He can distract himself, or move far enough away that thoughts are fainter, but yes, between Emmett and Rosalie, and Carlisle and I, things can get pretty uncomfortable for him."

Alice smiled. "He sort of likes hearing my thoughts, I think, because I can give him a bit of a warning if he needs to leave the house."

Esme chuckled. "You're like a meteorologist, only you forecast amorous behavior instead of the weather."

Alice laughed. "Hey, I like that. Maybe I should start giving Edward a daily forecast every morning." They both laughed at that.

Though she'd seen it coming, Alice was still pleasantly surprised at how she and Jasper had been accepted by the Cullens with such ease. Edward and Esme were probably the two family members that Alice was closest with so far, since they'd so quickly gotten used to her gift, but she was looking forward to getting to know Carlisle too, once Jasper was able to relax a little around their new coven leader, and Alice knew that Rosalie and Emmett would soon be dear friends too. Rosalie was already starting to feel like a sister, though she seemed to be the sort of person who only warmed up to others gradually, and Emmett, Alice could tell, already liked his new siblings, though his size made Jasper more than a little edgy. All in all, though their new home would take some getting used to, Alice knew that she and Jasper had made the right decision in seeking out the Cullens; already, the other immortals felt like family.

The shop that Esme chose was large enough that the two of them might avoid the curious stares of humans that would follow them everywhere in a smaller shop. As it was, they weren't the only customers there, so they were able to avoid the busy salespeople and examine the dress selection on their own. Alice immediately chose a red dress with a wide skirt and taffeta to spare, while Esme chose a more conservative blue dress, as well as a navy blue skirt and a cream-colored sweater to try on.

"You know," Alice said suddenly, "I think that this is a chance for both of us to get out of our respective fashion ruts. I know that you have to dress older when you're out in public, but why not try on something just to wear around the house—something flashy and daring, something that you'll actually look your age in, Esme! And I'll try on something that looks more mature—usually, I try to wear things that make me look as young as possible, but today I'll try to find something more grownup."

"You know, I've been wondering about that, Alice," Esme said, who didn't seem at all offended by Alice's frank assessment of her "fashion rut." "I'm so used to dressing to look older than I am that it's hard to imagine why you'd want to look even younger than you are. You're so petite that from a distance, you can pass for a child."

"Exactly," Alice said with a smile. "I've learned that men are a lot less likely to approach me if they think I might be underage. It's sort of ironic, but children are able to go more places without being bothered than women, at least in my limited experience. I don't really mind men wanting to talk to me, only I always worry that I'm going to slip, or that Jasper is, if someone gets close enough to try and start a conversation."

"I see," Esme said thoughtfully. "Honestly, you're the smallest one of our kind I've ever seen, so maybe you just don't intimidate people as much as the rest of us do. Men hardly ever come up to me, especially if I'm with Rosalie."

Alice laughed. "Together, the two of you would definitely be intimidating to any man trying to ask you for a date. Come on, let's go try all this on!"

In the end, both of them settled on clothing that was appropriate for the ages they were trying to look as part of their human personas, but they each chose a dress that complimented their physical ages too. Both agreed that a double date would be fun sometime, though it might be a while before Jasper was stable enough around humans to endure any extended outing, no matter how much he fed beforehand.

"We're hoping to get married in a few months," Alice said thoughtfully. "I mean, we already have a marriage license, and we were married in a courthouse not long after we first met, but we've been waiting to have a real ceremony. Jasper and I don't want to risk it just yet though, since, you know, it might put a bit of a damper on the day if anyone were to attack the priest."

"That's true," Esme said, purchasing their clothing and politely waving away Alice's effervescent expressions of gratitude. "As soon as you see the day coming though, let me know and we'll go shopping for your wedding dress."

Alice grinned at the thought of that long-anticipated day—a wedding with Jasper and the family they'd been searching for for years—and the thought of the dress that she could already see herself finding a few days from now in a catalog. "I can hardly wait!"


	222. Quiet

Hi everyone! I'm finally back; moving from Michigan to Illinois was certainly interesting, and after a little over a week here, I'm starting to feel like I know where stuff is, and I'm getting lost a little bit less every time I try to go somewhere new. :) (I start my new job tomorrow, so if you can spare a good thought for me, I'd appreciate it…I'll do my best...:)) Today's chapter takes place during "Breaking Dawn," in the final hours when the Cullens waited for Bella's transformation into a vampire to be finished. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm really enjoying watching "Breaking Dawn" on DVD! :) (Still haven't gotten to the DVD extras though...maybe next weekend. :))

_2006_: Quiet

Carlisle's POV

After checking her vitals one last time, Carlisle left Bella in his office, Edward still at her side, waiting for the change to be complete. Judging by the sound of her heart, they didn't have long to wait now. In a few hours, Bella's heart would stop, and she would finally be immortal; her body, which had been so ravaged and weakened in the past few weeks, strong and whole again. Though Carlisle knew that Edward might still struggle with Bella's recent decisions, at least when she finally opened her eyes as a vampire, Carlisle hoped that his son would finally feel what he'd felt when Esme had first looked at him with scarlet irises nearly a century before: relief, love, and very little regret.

After stopping by the living room to look in on Renesmee (a hobby that everyone in the family now enjoyed), Carlisle slipped back upstairs to join Esme in the shower. Though neither of them would have ever admitted it, Carlisle was aware that getting used to the constant smell of werewolf in the house was going to take some time. It was bearable now, after several days of having Jacob in the house, but Carlisle still found himself showering more frequently, since the scent of wolf had a way of clinging to hair and clothing. Jacob in turn seemed to enjoy frequent swims in the river on those rare occasions when he left Renesmee's side, but perhaps if everyone ignored each other's respective smells for long enough, there would come a time when no one even noticed such differences between wolves and immortals anymore.

"Hi," Esme said, turning so Carlisle could wash her hair. "Is Renesmee still asleep?"

"She's in Alice's arms instead of Rose's now, but yes, she's still sleeping," Carlisle said happily. "You know, I've always found newborn humans fascinating, but Nessie is, I say with only a small measure of bias, the most beautiful baby I've ever seen."

"Renesmee," Esme reminded him gently. "Somehow I don't think that Bella's going to be thrilled if the first thing she hears as a vampire is one of us referring to her daughter as 'Nessie.'"

"It's cute though," Carlisle said with a smile. "And it's a fitting nickname for any child with such sharp teeth."

"She seems so big already," Esme said fondly. "I mean, her teeth surprised me too, but her size especially is a little startling. Then again, my son was pretty small when he was born. And you hear about even bigger babies being born nowadays..."

"Yes," Carlisle said, trying to conceal the worry in his voice. "She's growing every day."

"You're worried, aren't you? Do you think she's growing _too_ fast?" Esme said softly, turning around and running her hands through his hair. Carlisle was silent for a moment as she began to massage shampoo into his scalp.

"I just wonder how long her growth is going to be accelerated," Carlisle said finally. "I've never heard of a child like Nes—Renesmee, and the scientist in me doesn't like having no data to go on. Knowing so little during Bella's pregnancy was hard enough, but I'd hoped that once the baby was born that…well, things would proceed on more of an even keel. Considering that Renesmee is half-human, half-vampire though, I suppose I shouldn't have expected her development to mirror that of a human child's."

"For now, we can't do much but take care of Renesmee as best we can and help Bella get used to her new life," Esme said gently. "Regardless of how fast she grows in the future, for the time being, I think we've just got to take things day by day. It seems so impossible that we even have a granddaughter. Of course we have a lot to learn about her, and if her entrance into this world is any indication, things won't always be easy, but I'm looking forward to the challenge."

Carlisle smiled. "When you put it that way, so am I."

Their shower lasted a long time (as always seemed to be the case, even when they showered together with mostly innocent intentions), but eventually, they got dressed and went back downstairs to watch Nessie sleep with the rest of the family, and Jacob too, who looked as content as everyone else. While she slept in Rosalie's arms, Carlisle watched her breathe and shift slightly as she dreamed, and though his first instinct was to try and puzzle out the science behind his swiftly growing granddaughter, he knew that science wasn't going to be of much help when it came to a creature that, to the best of his knowledge, was unique. Anyway, there would be time for research and study later. For now, it was enough just to be near Esme and their children, watching their grandchild and enjoying the quiet that always reigned in the house now whenever Nessie was sleeping.

Once Bella opened her eyes, whenever the change was finally over, quiet might be a thing of the past for a long time. Carlisle recalled the other days and hours he'd spent like this, waiting for a new vampire to emerge from the agony of transformation. Bella at least had been warned about what was coming; perhaps having an idea of what to expect as a newborn would help her to manage the volatile emotions to come, but Carlisle would believe that when he saw it. In his admittedly limited experience with newborns, Carlisle considered this period of waiting to be the calm before the inevitable storm.

"It's almost time," Alice said suddenly.

Carlisle stood up, realizing what she meant, and Esme took his hand as they moved toward the staircase. Above them, Bella's heart was slowing down. Its soft, labored thumps were growing fainter by the minute, and then, just as he and Esme came into the office and moved to stand beside Edward, Carlisle heard the moment when a quiet heartbeat was followed by nothing but silence.


	223. Aspiration

Hi everyone! Thanks for all your reviews for last week's chapter, and for your kind thoughts and wishes for my new job; it's going really well so far! :) And in the interest of providing some random background info about last week's chapter, I'll just say that it was posted at Panera, since the wireless in my apartment wasn't working. That wasn't really a bad thing though: I can't say that I ever mind an excuse to go to Panera. :)

This week's chapter takes place a few years before the events of "Twilight," and once again, Carlisle and Esme are traveling; I always enjoy the idea of their playing the part of tourists together. :) (And if you're interested, you can Google the titles/artists mentioned below to see the pieces that Carlisle and Esme see at the MoMA. I really had to resist the urge to make this chapter even longer, because my feelings about modern art are sort of a mix of Carlisle's and Esme's, so it was easy to imagine them having a playful argument about the artistic merit of things. :)) See you again next Sunday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I watched "Breaking Dawn" again tonight! :)

_1999_: Aspiration

Esme's POV

Carlisle had been invited to New York City for a medical conference, and as the wife of an up-and-coming physician (such was Carlisle's role at the Maine hospital where he'd recently started practicing), of course Esme had come with him. They were playing newlyweds at present, which was always a fun persona for them both, since it entailed what their children considered excessive amounts of kissing and hand holding, but now that they were alone together in New York, they were free to indulge in as many public displays of affection as decency would allow, though while Carlisle was at the conference, they didn't see much of each other. Esme enjoyed exploring the city's galleries on her own, but she was still delighted when Carlisle announced that it was high time he took an afternoon off to do some sightseeing with her.

"So, where would you like to go?" Carlisle asked when they met in Central Park after his last meeting of the morning. Given that they never tired, and that the crowds of humans one might encounter when taking public transportation sometimes made Esme's throat burn, she and Carlisle tended to walk almost everywhere in New York, weather permitting, and today, there was a reassuring bank of clouds overhead that constantly threatened rain.

"I've been waiting to go to the MoMA so we could see it together," Esme said, closing her sketchbook and dusting off her skirt. She'd come to the park to do some sketching, and they'd met there in part because Carlisle always liked to see how the park changed over the years. He'd first visited it over a century before, and though it wasn't his favorite part of New York, Esme could see that he was always impressed that so much green space still existed in one of the world's largest cities.

Carlisle smiled. "Sounds good. We always seem to see things that appeal to and challenge our respective artistic tastes there."

Esme laughed and took his proffered hand as they started walking. "You're right. I know you won't like the Klein or Reinhardt paintings being exhibited now—"

"Honestly, how do those even count as paintings?" Carlisle said, shaking his head in exasperation. "They're just canvases painted solid colors. A century ago, an artist would have been laughed out of every gallery in Europe for trying to pass off such an audacious fraud as a work of art."

"Paintings like that have value precisely because they challenge our conceptions of what a painting is supposed to be," Esme said loftily, earning a smile from him. She didn't much care for the Klein or Reinhardt paintings she'd seen in the MoMA book she'd bought earlier that week, but as an artist herself, she always felt the need to defend her comrades in the craft from the (sometimes justified) criticism of her more scientific husband. Of course, Carlisle liked art a great deal, but the twentieth century had produced quite a few artists whose works had left Carlisle fearing for the future of truly discerning artistic taste.

Stepping into the museum some time later, Esme looked around, admiring her surroundings. The Museum of Modern Art was, in her opinion, the rare sort of museum that didn't seem too full or too empty. In some museums, pieces and exhibits were crowded together to the point that seeing everything in one visit seemed impossible. Esme had made numerous trips to the MoMA over the years, and something about the space always invited her to linger, to stop and examine pieces at her leisure, instead of hurrying on either to see the next treasure on display or to avoid a crowd of human tourists pressing close around her.

"I know it isn't fair, but I can't help but compare this place to the Art Institute of Chicago," Esme said with a smile. "I suppose it's just the luck of the draw really, but every time I've been there, it's been crowded with tourists and school groups, and I always feel like I need to hurry to see everything and then leave before my throat starts burning. Here, I always seem to come on quiet days, and the space has such a nice flow to it. Much as I love antiques, modern architecture holds a special place in my heart."

"It's like something you'd design," Carlisle said with a smile. "Especially the windows and high ceilings—it does have a wonderfully open feeling to it. Of course, I like the Art Institute because its collection consists of so many pieces from previous centuries. I suppose it supports my idea of what art should be instead of challenging it."

"That's why I like to come here with you every time we visit New York," Esme said with a grin. "We always enjoy discussing what we see, even when we don't agree on what we think of a piece, or maybe especially when we don't. You challenge my aesthetic sensibilities, and I challenge yours."

Carlisle chuckled. "There's certainly a lot of fodder for debate here. Like this—is it too harsh to call it a monstrosity?"

"Yes," Esme said, laughing. "And I know you've seen it before, so clearly, you're just trying to get a rise out of me."

"Guilty," Carlisle said with a grin. "But all teasing aside, a few decades ago, I never thought I'd see something like this in a museum. To me, the only artistic thing about it is the title."

They'd stopped to examine a piece called "White Anger, Red Danger, Yellow Peril, Black Death" by Bruce Nauman. It was, Esme had to admit, a work of art that consisted of four chairs that either rested on or hung beside two steel girders, and those in turn hung from the ceiling.

"See, I like this one," Esme said, smiling at Carlisle's bemused expression. "Look, if nothing else, it's interesting. It's a piece that transforms something as ordinary as a chair into something almost…foreboding. And the fact that it can move just makes the whole thing seem that much more unstable. There's something threatening about it, just because it takes something ubiquitous and makes it unpredictable."

Carlisle chuckled. "You know, I think my favorite thing about this place is hearing your interpretations of things. There are so many pieces that, on my own, I would just ignore or dismiss out of hand. But with you as my tour guide, I end up seeing chairs as art before I can stop myself."

Esme grinned. "You know, it isn't just artists born in this century who do this sort of thing. Marcel Duchamp's "Bicycle Wheel" is in here somewhere…"

Carlisle laughed. "Oh good, the famous bicycle wheel protruding from a stool. If only Duchamp could have known what future works of art would follow his dubious masterpiece."

"Come on, let's go take a look at the Picassos," Esme said with a giggle. "I know you can't help liking his work, regardless of how much you questioned it at first."

They'd met Picasso in France decades before, and though Esme had liked the man, and his paintings, Carlisle had been less taken with the artist's style.

"You know, when I first heard of him, I couldn't help but think that he was only a famous artist because he was painting in a way that no one else had thought of before—"

"Which is exactly one point about being an artist!" Esme said triumphantly. "It isn't just about making things that are aesthetically pleasing—you should make people think, whether people understand the point you were trying to make or not, or even if there's no point at all."

"'Art doesn't always have to have a point,'" Carlisle said with a smile. "That's what you told me. But even if there isn't a point, I still like to talk about it with you. That, I think, has become my favorite part of looking at art: comparing notes with my favorite critic."

Esme grinned and kissed him on the cheek. "I know for a fact that you appreciated art long before I came along," she said.

"Yes, but before I met you, art had to tell some kind of story, or else it wasn't really art to me," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "Now, looking at the exhibits here, I can grudgingly acknowledge that all of this is art, even when I don't understand what it's trying to express. There's art that I like, art that I don't like, and then there's art that you've taught me to give the benefit of the doubt."

"Well, at least you've stopped thinking of art in terms of good and bad," Esme said, putting her arm around him.

Carlisle smiled and squeezed her shoulder. "I know I lost that debate a long time ago."

Esme smiled as they made their way toward the closest Picasso painting. They would be going home in a day or two, back to Maine and their quiet small town there, but coming to New York always reminded Esme of how lucky she was to have so much time to see great works of art, and to learn about and create new art herself. Whether they were living in Maine or Timbuktu, Esme was always working on something. Being in a museum like this made her think of how long she'd lived already, how long Carlisle had lived, and how much the selection of pieces in these galleries would change in the years to come. The ability to witness art history in the making was just one perk of immortality, but Esme also enjoyed the fact that with every passing year, her own skills at creating art increased.

"Someday, I want to have a piece exhibited here," Esme said quietly, staring at the exhibits around her with a smile. She had paintings, sculptures, and even a few pieces of furniture that she'd restored exhibited in museums, never under her real name of course, but to Esme, having something in the MoMA would be a special accomplishment. It was something she aspired to more than almost anything else.

Carlisle smiled and put his arm around her again. "I'm sure you will then," he said, with that quiet confidence that was always in his voice when she expressed a wish to do something. Esme closed her eyes for a moment to imagine it: that moment when, one day, what was now only a fond aspiration would become a reality.


	224. Realty

Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update, but this weekend sort of got away from me somehow. This week's chapter takes place a couple of years before the events of "Twilight," and it concerns Carlisle and Esme's first visit to the house in Forks. I haven't done a chapter like this in a while, so I thought it would be fun to have the POV be that of the real estate agent this time. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm finally watching the Special Features for "Breaking Dawn." Ugh, I'm so bad with Special Features, even with movies I really like. I don't know why, but it always takes me forever to sit down and watch them…:P

_2003: Realty_

The Cullens were a lot younger than Carol Montgomery had expected. She and Mrs. Cullen had spoken over the phone, and she'd been unable to guess the other woman's age then, but judging by the kind of house she and her husband were looking for, and their price range, she'd been expecting a couple in their late thirties or early forties.

_Maybe they've both had work done, or maybe they just come from money_, Carol thought, smiling and waving as she got out of her car in front of the house she'd be showing the Cullens that day. They'd parked their Mercedes further up the drive, and they were already outside, looking up at the house.

"Hi!" she called cheerfully. "I'm glad you found the place—it's easy to miss the driveway the first time."

"Thanks to your directions, we had no problem," Mrs. Cullen said, stepping forward to shake hands. "It's great to finally meet you, Carol."

"Nice to meet you too," Carol said, wondering a little at how cold the other woman's hand was. Then again, it was a rainy day in February—still, if she was cold here, Carol couldn't imagine how Esme Cullen had survived up in Alaska. "And this must be your husband."

"Good to meet you, Carol," Dr. Cullen said, smiling, and Carol wished momentarily that there were more young, rich, and extremely handsome _single_ doctors out there. Then, her usual professional demeanor took over.

"Well, shall we head inside before it starts raining again?"

Carol led the Cullens through the house, pointing out the original hardwood floors, the high ceilings, the beautiful view of the river, and the overall great condition that the place was in, given its age and size. Carol had never shown this particular house before; it had been on the market for a long time, and ever since her predecessor, a realtor of some renown in the Port Angeles area, had retired and passed the property on to her, Carol had always been a little exasperated with the house. It was the sort of place that, as a realtor, she both loved and hated.

On the one hand, it was a beautiful old house in a beautiful part of the world…but the only people who could generally afford places like this had never even heard of Forks, and they certainly had no inclination to live in the area. It sometimes seemed that places like this were destined to fall into disrepair once their original owners died and their families tried to sell. As it was now, the location of the house was a double-edged sword; it was wonderful if you liked the woods, but it was too far from most commuter destinations. If Dr. Cullen wanted to take a job in Seattle, then this place was out of the question.

Then there was the state of the house: it was in great condition, and it contained a lot of great original features…which Carol thought of as realtor-speak for "fixer upper," which realtors rarely came out and said anymore, because people heard that phrase and predicted (correctly) that such a house would require a lot of repairs to make it livable. If the Cullens had a few hundred thousand dollars to pour into the place, then they could turn it into something amazing. But if they only focused on restoring the slightly rickety porch and replacing the roof, siding, and windows, then in the long run, a house like this was going to be more trouble than it was worth.

That was why Carol had been pleasantly surprised by Esme Cullen's interest in the listing. Of course, the asking price was still a little high, though the estate that owned it had dropped the price periodically over the past few years, but Carol thought that on the off chance that the Cullens were interested, the seller would be willing to negotiate.

"Well," Carol said at the conclusion of the tour of the house, "I know you have a lot to think about now. And of course, there are a lot of great houses in this area. Depending on how much time you have today, we could drive out to some places in Port Angeles."

The Cullens looked at each other, and then they both smiled.

"Actually, I think we'd like to put in an offer on this place," Carlisle said, looking at his wife and grinning. "You're in love with it already, aren't you?"

Esme grinned too, nodding enthusiastically. "It's beautiful. There's just so much potential here. We can make the entire south side of the house windows, so everyone can have a view of the river, and the rooms are a great size for the kids, and…yes. I'm in love. I think this place is perfect for us."

Carol stared for a moment, totally shocked. She'd been a real estate agent for ten years, but this had never happened before. She'd heard of people wanting to buy the first house they looked at, but not a house like this. Not for this price, discounted though it was.

"Are you…sure you don't want to look at anything else in the area?" she said carefully.

Esme shook her head, looking thoughtful now. "No, that's all right. This just feels like the one for us."

"Well, that's…great!" Carol said enthusiastically. "The asking price is a bit high, but I think we can safely submit a counteroffer for at least twenty thousand less."

"Actually, since the price has already been reduced, we don't mind paying the asking price," Carlisle said with a shrug. "It's really a steal, given the acreage and overall quality of the house. And I've learned from experience that when my wife says a place has potential, she's absolutely right."

"…all right, then," Carol said, professional smile still in place despite her surprise. "If…you're sure that's what you want to do, then I'll go ahead and put in an offer for the full asking price."

"Wonderful!" Esme said. "Carol, I just can't thank you enough for finding this place. It's even better than I imagined. The whole house, and the woods all around…"

"I can hardly wait to get out there and start hunting," Carlisle agreed, putting his arm around her.

Carol blinked. This guy was rich, gorgeous…and crazy, because only crazy people paid the asking price without trying to negotiate first. "You're…a hunter. Well, this is a great area for that. Deer season is always a busy time of year around here."

"We love hunting together," Esme said. "It's such a great way to get outside with the kids. Oh, and if we can get this place fixed up by the end of the summer, we can move in just in time for the kids to start school!"

"I'm planning to accept a job at the hospital in Forks as soon as my contract at my current hospital ends," Carlisle explained to Carol. "This way, our youngest son and daughter will be able to finish middle school up north, and the older kids will only have three years left of high school when we get down here."

"That's great," Carol said, still feeling a little shocked. _What planet are these people from where you don't negotiate on the price of a house as expensive as this one?_ she wondered._ Planet "Rich Weirdo," maybe._ "The schools in this area are really good, and it's known as a safe place to raise kids. I know people who work in Port Angeles that live in Forks just so their kids can grow up in a smaller town. "

"That's exactly what we've been looking for," Esme said with a smile. "With five teenagers in the house, safety's really important to us."

"Of course, the kids are going to miss seeing bears and moose on the way to school like they do up north," Carlisle said with a smile, "but I'm sure they'll get used to the change."

It was true what they said about realty, Carol reflected. You did get to meet a lot of interesting people.


	225. Distance

Hi everyone! Sorry for the late chapter, but once again, the weekend slipped away! (That seems to happen whenever I work a Saturday…oh well though, I'm just happy to be working again. :)) This week's chapter is a bit sad (and rather long), but it's another one that explores how Carlisle and Esme might have tried to cope with Edward's absence during his years away. Thanks as always for your very kind reviews, which really do make my day whenever I read them, and I'll see you again next Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and can people please quit comparing "Twilight" to "The Hunger Games"? Can't they both just be awesome in their own ways and leave it at that? :P

_1927_: Distance

Carlisle's POV

Six months after Edward left, Carlisle and Esme agreed that they should take a trip. Neither of them had any real inclination to go anywhere, but they'd discussed the idea of getting away from Rochester for a little while, if only to get some distance from the grief of losing Edward. Finally, on a day when both of them were feeling worse than usual—it was the sixth month anniversary of Edward's departure, to the day—Carlisle silently pulled an atlas from the bookshelf and sat beside Esme before opening it.

"Europe's out, because I don't think either of us wants to be too far away or be gone too long," he murmured thoughtfully. "But I think anywhere in the continental United States should be all right. We haven't been able to decide on where to go, so what if you close your eyes, and point to a place on this map? Wherever you point, we'll go."

Esme smiled slightly at the idea. Of course, it didn't solve the problem of missing Edward, but if nothing else, it was an original distraction from their sadness. Without a word, Esme closed her eyes, and after letting her hand hover over it for a moment, she put her finger down on the map.

"So, where are we going?"

"Davenport, in Iowa," Carlisle said quietly, and he knew without looking at her that Esme was thinking the same thing he was: if they took the train, then they could stop in Chicago on the way. Really, it would be a matter of course; passing through Chicago only meant taking the most direct route west. They would have to go out of their way to avoid the city, so why not stop there before going on to Iowa? If nothing else, they could visit what had once been Edward's home…

Of course, they really had no idea where Edward was now. He'd been born in Chicago though; was it impossible or even implausible that he'd made the city his hunting ground? But even if it was, was there any chance they'd get to see him? Would he even speak to them if they did?

Esme smiled, though the sadness still in her eyes was unmistakable. Perhaps her thoughts were running along a similar course as his. "Let's get packed, then."

They left the following morning. It was mercifully cloudy, so they were able to stand on the platform and watch people making their way to other trains, and then when they got onboard, they didn't have to worry about avoiding shafts of sunlight shooting through the windows. When they'd taken the train on sunny days in the past, even when they'd had a private car, for safety's sake, they always had to draw the shades, which made enjoying the scenery next to impossible. On this trip though, they were able to watch as the train raced out of Rochester, then later through other towns and cities, which gave way to forest from time to time, particularly as they headed west.

"Look," Esme pointed out the window a couple of hours before they got into Chicago. A herd of deer were racing through the trees, hurrying to escape the noise and menace of the train.

Carlisle chuckled. "It's a novel feeling, to see them running from something other than us for a change."

"They could be running from us _and_ the train," Esme teased. "We have the window open, after all. Maybe they can smell us."

"I doubt that, over all the odors this thing emits," Carlisle said, chuckling when Esme waved to a deer that had paused a few hundred yards away, and was staring back at the train. It immediately took off running again, and Carlisle and Esme both laughed.

"Maybe their eyesight is better than I've ever guessed," Esme said with a giggle, smiling sympathetically. "It's nice to just see them, really. To see them and know that I'm probably never going to kill that one, I mean. They're such graceful creatures that sometimes, it seems a shame to kill them."

Carlisle raised his eyebrows. "Bobcats are more graceful than deer, but you never mind killing them."

_"_Well_,_ they taste better," Esme argued. "Deer are beautiful, but they aren't nearly as tasty. That's why I sometimes feel sorry for them. It seems a shame to kill something I'll barely enjoy consuming."

"It's interesting to think about hunting when we're not doing it," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "Some creatures _are_ more aesthetically pleasing than others, and when I'm not chasing after them, trying to bring them down, I can appreciate how they must look to humans: wild, or dangerous. But as soon as I get thirsty, and I start to chase after a scent, all those thoughts disappear, and animals are only food again."

"Exactly," Esme said, staring at the place where the deer had disappeared behind a thick copse of trees. "I never have these thoughts while we're hunting, and we so rarely get to see animals otherwise that it almost never occurs to me. Of course, the last time we went to the zoo, I thought about it while I was sketching…" Esme trailed off, biting her lip to suppress a smile.

"While you were sketching animals snarling at us," Carlisle finished with a grin. The caged beasts had been less than thrilled with the smell of vampire, never mind that they'd kept well away from the cages. "I know you didn't like scaring the animals, but the human spectators were certainly entertained. I heard one woman say that with all the roaring, the place was just as she'd pictured darkest Africa."

Esme snorted with laughter. "It _was_ quite a spectacle. I think it'll be a long time before I dare set foot in a zoo again. All my sketching resulted in nothing but blurs of movement and flashing teeth anyway."

"You captured your subject well then," Carlisle said, and with another chuckle, Esme laid her head against his shoulder.

After that, they were silent for a while. Holding hands, they stared out the window, and Carlisle knew that they were both counting down the minutes until they got to Chicago. They were almost there…could Edward be just a few miles ahead? The possibility was very slim of course, but what if they caught his scent and followed it? What would they find: the boy who had been their son…or someone entirely different? Carlisle refused to seriously consider that possibility, but a part of him feared it.

Their visit to Edward's childhood home was a short one. A train was leaving for Davenport in six hours, so Carlisle and Esme were able to walk at a human pace from Union Station to the house that Edward had grown up in. It had new residents now, and as Carlisle and Esme paused in front of the house, they could see people moving around inside, clearly preparing for dinner. As the family gathered in the dining room, Carlisle sighed and prepared to turn away, but Esme held him in place on the sidewalk.

"Why didn't we ever visit this place with Edward?" she said quietly. "I would have loved to hear which room was his, or if he and his parents used the same room that this family uses as the dining room…just little things, I suppose, but…things that must have meant a lot to Edward, when he was human."

Carlisle shook his head. "He and I only came here together once, to fetch some of his things. He liked to visit it sometimes, but never with me—he always came here on his own. He was very happy here with his mother and father, so given the way that his life ended…well, this house must have reminded him of the bitter way that all those happy memories were arrested. Edward never wanted to forget this place, but I'm sure that trying to remember was painful for him too, so…he preferred to be alone here."

Esme nodded. "I see."

"Of course, there's another option too," Carlisle said gently. "Perhaps…because I really believe we were parents to him, if only for a while, maybe he didn't want us to see him unhappy."

Esme smiled, though the expression on her face was tearful. "He didn't want his new family to see him grieving for his old one, you mean."

Carlisle nodded, not trusting himself to speak. They stood in front of the house for a long time, holding hands and looking up at the family eating dinner, and Carlisle squeezed Esme's hand, because he couldn't imagine bearing the loss of Edward without her. No, it would have been impossible to face alone, and it eased a painful place inside him when Esme squeezed back.

"Okay, I'm ready," she said softly, and then they left.

Because it was ostensibly the point of their trip, when it was time to go on to Davenport, they went. Of course, they hadn't caught Edward's scent, had heard no rumors of criminals being murdered under strange circumstances. There had been no trace of him at all. The trip across Illinois was mostly a flat one: as Carlisle and Esme looked out the window, they watched rain pour down on great expanses of farmland. The train sped between the occasional hill, but it wasn't until they got close to Rock Island, right beside the Mississippi, that the terrain really changed. Rolling hills and valleys were everywhere now, and though sunshine threatened, the cloud cover held until after dark in Rock Island, when Carlisle and Esme got off the train.

"Of course, we could take the train across the river," Carlisle said quietly, looking at the bridge and the lights of the city on the other side of the Mississippi, "but it's been a long trip, and I thought you might like a quick swim."

Esme smiled. "That's a wonderful idea."

They had only one suitcase between them, so they left it at a hotel in Rock Island, and then they swam across the river to Davenport. It was easy to find a dark place by the river to slip into the water, and after that, they stayed below the surface to avoid being spotted by anyone on a boat or from the window of a train, though Carlisle doubted that most humans could see so well at night. Still, it was fun to linger in the river with Esme. They chased each other playfully, grinned and had to try not to laugh when they inadvertently startled a huge fish, a great pike that had thought itself the best of predators in these waters, and eventually, they crept onto shore in Davenport, the destination that had given them an excuse to look for Edward. Now that they were here, it occurred to Carlisle that he had no interest in the city. Coming here had been a distraction, nothing more. What was there for them to do next?

"I suppose we really could search for him," Esme said quietly, laying in the shadows of a bridge on the riverbank. "Just keep traveling until we pick up his scent somewhere."

Carlisle nodded, lying beside her. "We could."

Esme sat up and smiled at him, her expression still a bit sad, her hair standing out around her head in wet, messy curls. "But we won't, will we?"

"Why not?" Carlisle asked, genuinely wondering what should stop them from searching for Edward until they found him.

"Because something tells me that he wouldn't want us to see him right now," Esme said firmly. "And because I think this is what being a parent is all about, Carlisle. It's about letting your children go out into the world and live their own lives, make their own mistakes, and come back to you in their own good time."

"We did the same to our parents," Carlisle pointed out quietly, "and we never came back. We couldn't."

"So Edward will, if he can," Esme said, stroking his cheek. "And I know you'll want to be there for him when he comes home."

Carlisle closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the feeling of her hand on his face. She was right, of course. No matter how far they traveled, and even if they did so to try and find Edward, Carlisle knew that there was no place he could go that would be better than home. In Rochester, they would have to face the pain of waiting, perhaps waiting futilely, but it pained Carlisle more to think of Edward coming home and finding them gone. Carlisle opened his eyes.

Esme stood up then and offered him her hand. "Ready to go home?"

Carlisle smiled at her, thinking, _once, it seemed impossible that I'd ever see you again, let alone marry you one day. But here we are. So maybe there's no such thing as 'impossible.' You're the only reason I can dare to hope that he'll come back someday._ "Yes."


	226. Progeny

Hi everyone! This week's chapter is sort of a sweet one; Edward, as a new father, talks to Carlisle and Esme about Renesmee. (Though obviously their parenting experiences are very different, I feel like their feelings would be pretty similar. Also, Carlisle and Esme are the cutest grandparents ever. :)) Thanks as always for all your reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and this time next year, "The Host" movie will be coming out! Huzzah! (And of course, we'll get "Breaking Dawn" Part 2 at the end of this year, but that's definitely going to be bittersweet…)

_2006_: Progeny

Edward's POV

As I stared down at Renesmee, who was asleep in my arms, all I could think of was how strange it was to hold a person who was half me and half Bella as if it were the most natural thing in the world—_me_, holding _our_ child—and not as if she were made of glass. Already, it was clear that she was far stronger than an ordinary infant, but that much had been apparent long before she'd been born. When I considered the way I'd once felt about my daughter, I couldn't help but wince a little. How could I have ever considered the small sleeping creature I held, who Bella had fought so hard to protect, a monster?

As if she could sense my guilty conscience, Renesmee opened her eyes and smiled up at me. I smiled in return and smoothed her hair.

"Sorry again for being such an idiot," I whispered. "Your mother was right about you. She was always right, but it took me a long time to come around to her way of thinking."

Renesmee touched my face then, and an image of Bella appeared in my mind—Bella as she'd been before my venom had entered her veins. The memory of her, weak but triumphant, somehow made me feel pained and hopeful in equal measure.

"She'll be awake soon," I promised, though of course I could guarantee no such thing; what was "soon" to someone who was only a few hours old? I still wasn't sure how well Renesmee understood us when we spoke to her either—it seemed that she understood almost everything that was said in her presence, but that thought seemed so incredible that I was inclined to dismiss it as wishful thinking. Maybe it wasn't just human parents who were prone to overestimating the genius of their offspring.

Carlisle and Esme emerged from Carlisle's office then—I'd only agreed to leave Bella's side so that Carlisle could thoroughly examine her. Rosalie, who'd only reluctantly relinquished my daughter, had insisted that I stay outside the office if I wanted to hold Renesmee, on the grounds that the strange room with all its medical equipment, to say nothing of the bloody memories it contained, might frighten her. I doubted that Renesmee would be frightened, and I was sure that she was eager to see her mother again, but I was a little nervous at the thought of Renesmee being in the room when Bella's heart stopped and she opened her eyes on life as a vampire. How might she react to the sound of our daughter's beating heart? So, for safety's sake, I'd agreed to stay outside.

"You don't need to worry, Edward," Carlisle promised, nodding toward the door, which he'd left open. I looked inside to reassure myself that Bella was still motionless, but made sure to block Renesmee's view, just in case. "Bella's heart sounds better than yours did this many hours into the change," he went on, while Esme leaned down to kiss Renesmee on the forehead. "And her wounds have mostly healed. We might have less than a day to wait now."

"You'll get to meet your mother soon, darling," Esme said, grinning down at Renesmee, who grinned back, showing her tiny teeth.

"You know, when I look at her, I can't help but wonder why Bella was so sure that Renesmee was going to be a boy," I said quietly. "Seeing her now, with Bella's eyes, it seems so obvious. Of course we'd have a girl."

Carlisle shrugged apologetically, staring down at Renesmee. "Most likely, my story about the Denali sisters' mother and her immortal child took root in Bella's imagination. That was her only frame of reference, I think, for having a child involved with vampires, or for wanting a child enough to die for it."

"That seems strange too, that she never mentioned children, except to insist that she wouldn't miss not having any," I said quietly. "I usually avoided the subject, because I was afraid she was just trying to make me feel better when she said she didn't mind. But now I wonder if she imagined what a child of ours might have looked like. Maybe she wanted this even when she thought it was impossible."

"Not every woman does, Edward," Esme said, glancing at Carlisle with a smile. "I was sixteen before I really started thinking that I might want to have children someday, and who knows how much older I would have been when that idea took root if I hadn't met a certain someone."

I smiled sadly. "You think Bella honestly didn't want a child until she realized that she was going to have mine?"

"I think that's a distinct possibility," Esme said, gently embracing Renesmee and I. "Edward, don't worry. Soon enough, you'll be able to ask Bella yourself, but when you do, I'm sure she'll tell you that everything that's happened was worth it—that you and Renesmee are worth it."

I sighed. "As my mother, you're more than a little biased in my favor, Esme."

"Then take my word for it as a wife and mother," Esme said, kissing me on the cheek. "We tend to be biased in favor of our husbands and children, and I think Bella will be too."

"Thank you, Esme," I said, smiling at my mother as she drew away. Renesmee, who was awake now, immediately grabbed at Carlisle, who'd been reaching out to touch her, and began playing with his fingers.

"How does fatherhood feel so far?" Carlisle asked, smiling at me and then laughing in amazement along with Esme as Renesmee seemed to compare her own tiny fingers to his.

I grinned like the proud father I already was. "Amazing."

"Well, get used to it," Carlisle said, smiling at me. "Even after a hundred years, she'll still be making you proud."

I smiled faintly down at Renesmee, wondering what she might be like a hundred years from now. Would she continue to grow as quickly as she had up until her birth, or would something change? I had to believe that it would—that rather than aging and passing away so quickly that we would barely get to know her, I had to believe that the vampire part of Renesmee would show itself sooner rather than later. I wanted Bella and I—and all of our family—to have forever to get to know our child, just as Carlisle and Esme had had decades so far to get to know their progeny. But before that, Bella needed to open her eyes—as I stared down at our daughter, it was clear that I needed her now more than ever.


	227. Choice

Hi everyone! Sorry for updating a day late, but this chapter ran longer than I thought it would, and what with Easter, I just couldn't get it edited last night. Today's chapter is a post BD one about Bella adjusting to life as a Cullen with a little help from Esme, who only vaguely remembers her human life, but who also wonders what effect her disappearance may have had on the humans in her life. Thanks as always for reading—I'm so grateful that people take the time to continue reading "Eternity" after so long—and I'll see you again next Sunday! Happy belated Easter/Passover/Sunday to everyone! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and "Breaking Dawn" Part 2 is only…220 days away. Ouch. (I'm going to be both really happy and really sad when it finally comes out…)

_2007_: Choice

Bella's POV

For the third time in as many months, Esme and I were sitting in the living room, folding clothes and boxing them up, along with some of Nessie's old toys, to take to Goodwill, and as always, I couldn't help but marvel at how fast my daughter outgrew things. Of course, Nessie was probably the fastest growing child in the world, but I suspected that every mom felt the way I did: how could it be that she was already too big for this dress, this pair of shoes? Alice, Rosalie, Esme and I all had fun buying new things for Nessie, but I couldn't help but feel just a little sad every time we prepared another load of clothes and toys to donate. In just a few short years, Nessie would be grown up, and I would have to learn to be the mother of an adult child instead of an extremely precocious toddler. Sometimes, the only thing that kept me from panicking when I thought about that was Esme's presence: her decades of experience as a mom were already invaluable to me.

Just as I was turning to say so to Esme herself, I heard Emmett and Jasper stop in the driveway outside. Emmett was in the Jeep while Jasper was on his motorcycle, and though I'd once thought that such loud noises must bother the powerful ears of vampires, now I knew that our ears easily adjusted to different volumes. Separating the different components of sounds was involuntary: that was the engine, that was the muffler, that was the radio in the Jeep (which I could hear buzzing faintly even though Emmett had turned the volume off), and that was Jasper setting his feet on the ground just as Emmett hit the Jeep's brakes. An instant later, the engine noises stopped, and I heard my brothers-in-law run toward the house.

"Jasper was first," I announced as soon as the door opened.

"Dammit!" Emmett shouted, and Jasper laughed.

"Language," Esme said pointedly, and Emmett glanced apologetically at the ceiling.

"I said darn it!" he called, and I smiled when I heard Nessie giggle.

"That's a quarter for the swear jar, Emmett," Rosalie called, and Emmett scowled as he dropped a quarter into the glass jar sitting on the coffee table. Nessie was so grown up in so many ways already that in the interest of giving her at least a moderately ordinary childhood, we'd all agreed to ban swearing from the house at least for the next few years. No one really broke the rule much except the wolves, and Emmett, who could be counted on to slip at least once a day.

"I can't believe I lost," he muttered. "Best two out of three, Jasper?"

"Fine," Jasper said, taking the stack of boxes I handed him. "Is this all?"

"No, Alice and Rose are going to bring down some more stuff when they're finished with Nessie," I said. "It's hard to tell what still fits her and what doesn't unless she tries it on, so—"

"Fashion show," Emmett finished. "Got it."

"So hurry up and go so you can get back and see all the cute pictures we're taking up here!" Alice called. Nessie fashion shows were always well documented, and though I'd worried at first that Nessie would find the whole thing a bit silly (since not many little kids are all that interested in clothing), it turned out that Nessie always had fun trying on clothes with her aunts. This came as a relief to me, since Nessie's curiosity about clothes made Alice less determined to strong-arm me into caring about fashion.

"I know that this should go without saying, but be careful racing!" Esme called as they ran out the door.

"We will!" Emmett and Jasper called, and Esme sighed as the engines of their respective vehicles roared to life and two of her sons prepared to race along the backroads to Goodwill.

"They've never been in an accident involving humans," she said, "but they've been in plenty of accidents involving each other."

I grinned. "They have to fix whatever they break though, don't they? I'd think that would teach them to be more careful."

"You'd think that, but I'm afraid you'd be wrong," Esme said with another sigh. "Most of the time, they both act their age—Jasper especially—but they both turn into little boys again whenever a fast car or motorcycle is involved."

I laughed. "It's sort of nice. Reckless and kind of silly, but nice."

Esme smiled. "I suppose so. Of course, I wish they had a slightly less irresponsible hobby, but as long as no one gets hurt except their vehicles, I don't really mind. And it's always been a good distraction for both of them, when they've struggled with thirst. I have to admit that drawing and painting haven't always worked as well for me in that department."

I glanced at the piano, thinking of Edward's hobby. He and Carlisle were gone for two weeks, volunteering at a clinic in Seattle, and though I was happy that they were getting to spend some time together doing something they both enjoyed, both the main house and our cottage seemed quiet without Edward and his music, and I was looking forward to his return. I knew that Esme felt the same way about Carlisle; in fact, just to be safe, I decided to ask Nessie's aunts and uncles to take her out the day Edward and Carlisle got back. Reunions between vampire couples, I had already learned, were passionate things best conducted in private.

We'd finished packing up for now, so Esme picked up her sketchbook and returned to the drawing she'd been working on earlier, while I wrote a quick thank you note to Renée and Phil for the box of things they'd sent to me to give to Nessie. (Nessie had already written a card of her own; her penmanship, I was bemused to see, wasn't as good as Edward's yet, but it was already almost better than mine.) Though any kind of correspondence was risky, we'd all agreed that something like this was better than e-mail, which could be traced from a computer anywhere in the world. Besides, every time I sent a letter to my mom and her husband (always with pictures of Nessie included), I had Charlie address the envelope and send it from his house. It wasn't much of a misdirection, but we were operating under the assumption that for now at least, the Volturi had more important things to do than go through my mother's mail, looking for proof that I was in contact with her.

"You've probably already heard," Esme said suddenly, "but did you know that Angela Weber is back in town for the summer?"

I nodded. "Rose told me yesterday—I guess she saw her as she was driving through town. Actually, I found out last week. I was bringing Nessie home from seeing Charlie and Sue, and she asked to stop by the cemetery. It was dark, so I figured it was safe for us to stop and look at my grave, so we did, and I found a bouquet of flowers from Angela there."

In retrospect, it was clear why Alice had neglected to mention Angela's return to Forks to me: she knew that I'd feel more than a little guilty about making Angela grieve for my supposed death. The whole town was still talking about it, though I suppose that according to our cover story, I actually hadn't been dead for very long, but still, I felt guilty for making Charlie go through with the charade (and for the fact that we only dared visit him under the cover of darkness), and I felt even worse about what I must be putting my high school friends through. It was for their own safety though, so I knew there was no getting around it. Still, Angela's flowers had surprised me a little.

There had been a note included with the bouquet. Nessie had found it while she'd leaned down to examine my grave and the flowers—being a child and an immortal, the concept of death was fascinating to her, though she seemed puzzled by its finality—and she'd read it to me:

_Dear Bella,_

_I was so sorry to hear about what happened to you. When I saw you at your wedding, I felt so sure that you and Edward were going to be happy together for a long time, and I really wish that you had had that chance. I wish that I could have gotten to know you better, and wherever you are, I want you to know that I'm praying for you and your family. _

_ Love, _

_ Angela_

We'd left the cemetery after I'd felt like the urge to cry had passed, and though Nessie hadn't known what to say, she'd held my hand tightly all the way home, which had been better than anything that anyone could have said. When I told Esme about this now, she looked thoughtful.

"It's not that I'm very sad about it anymore," I explained. "I mean, I know it had to be done, but I guess I didn't spend much time thinking about how the choices I made would affect the people I met in Forks. Angela grew up here, and she had lots of other friends, or at least people she'd known a lot longer. All my human friends did. I guess I just assumed that they hadn't known me long enough to get very attached—I mean, I suppose I considered myself more of an acquaintance than a friend to all of them, even Angela. Which, in retrospect, was stupid, because I fell in love with Edward and got married in the same amount of time that I knew Angela and the others."

"I think that it's always a bit hard to know how close you are to the people around you," Esme said slowly. "Now that I think about it, I suppose that there were humans who considered me a friend that worried when I disappeared, but there was so much going on in my life then that I felt the same way you did: I thought of other people as acquaintances, not friends, I think because I was so worried about my husband finding me that I was terrified of risking anyone else's safety."

"Exactly," I said. "Maybe if I'd known Angela in Phoenix, I would have thought of her as a friend. But here, I spent so much time worrying that I was going to accidentally get the humans in my life killed that maybe I subconsciously tried to keep my distance. I don't know that I would have done anything differently if I had it to do over again, but I wish that I could have left people like Angela with less uncertainty…though probably, it's impossible to keep the people you care about completely safe _and_ give them closure," I said with a frown, trying not to think of the risk we were running by keeping my parents in the loop.

I'd spent so much time thinking about being a vampire before I'd become one, and I felt guilty that I hadn't stopped to consider how people like Angela might be effected. I mean, I'd worried about being a danger to them as a newborn, but I hadn't imagined former classmates leaving flowers on my grave. Even if I had only been a small part of her life, I _had_ been a part of Angela's world, if only for a little while. I was sorry that she was hurting because of me, but of course, I was the last person in the world who could comfort her now.

"I think you're right," Esme said gently. "There were people in my life too who probably missed me, and I would have liked to have told them what really happened to me, but it wouldn't have been safe. And of course, in a way, maybe leaving them wondering about me was better. I think most of them would have rather imagined that I ran off with some secret lover, or lit out and joined the circus, than that I tried to kill myself and subsequently became a vampire."

"That's true. And at least at the wedding, Angela and my other friends got to see how happy I was. I just hope…that I didn't traumatize her or something, you know?" I said, smiling weakly.

"Bella, I like to think that the way I disappeared taught the people who knew me then that nothing in life is certain," Esme said kindly, "and that the best way to live with uncertainty is to do your best not to put things off. To live life to the fullest, so to speak. Maybe having known you will remind Angela to always try to enjoy every day, and to make the most of her life."

I smiled. "I hope so. Meanwhile, I'll try to make the most of my afterlife."

And that was true. I knew that I was going to struggle with watching my parents grow old, but I would do my best to deal with that when the time came. For now, I was just determined to make the most of my immortality, and to accept the negative consequences of my choice as best I could. At the moment though, there were very few negative consequences to cope with.

It amazed me how many wonderful moments I enjoyed with my family every day; how much Nessie and I both learned together as she grew and I learned to utilize new aspects of my mind; and how much the other Cullens gave back to the world. (I was eager to start doing that too, as soon as everyone was absolutely certain that I could be trusted not to kill people.) In a few weeks, I planned to start volunteering with Esme, and Alice, Rosalie, and I were planning to start a nonprofit together that would somehow utilize our respective talents. (Alice could see it coming in the near future, but other than mentioning cell phones, she hadn't quite explained the details to me yet.) Even if it had to be done mostly secretly, I had resolved long ago to leave my mark on the world, to enjoy my life with Edward and Nessie and all of our family, and to always make the most of the life I'd chosen.


	228. Pairs

Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update, but I went to the RT Booklovers Convention in Chicago this weekend; it was tons of fun, and I got to meet some of my favorite authors...but unsurprisingly, walking around carrying lots of books for several hours straight left me pretty tired, to the point that I couldn't quite get this chapter edited last night. This week's chapter is from Renée's point of view, and it deals with the questions that she and Phil must have had when they noticed that Jasper and Alice, as well as Emmett and Rosalie, were dating. (I've always figured that she would have been pretty quick to accept the whole situation, but it would be impossible not to notice. :))

And I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to take next week off; next weekend, I'm going to have my mom visiting me, and I just don't think I'll be able to get a chapter edited in time for my usual Sunday update. So, I'll see you again in two weeks with a nice fluffy chapter. (I'm planning to write one where Carlisle and Esme get a little…ahem, _overenthusiastic _when they practice sparring before the battle in "Eclipse." :)) Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again in two weeks!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and did you hear that they're doing some reshoots for "Breaking Dawn" Part 2? I can't believe that it's almost done, and that in a few months, we'll get to see it! :)

_2006_: Pairs

Renée's POV

The reception had only been going on for a few minutes when Renée first really noticed Alice's boyfriend. She'd known who he was before, but this was the first time that she'd had a quiet moment to really stop and think about it. He and Alice were dancing together, and as Renée watched, the boy's sister (_Jasper, that's his name_) danced past with Emmett, Alice and Edward's older brother. (_Rosalie, that's the girl's name._) Renée knew that Bella wasn't nearly as close to Rosalie as she was to Alice, but maybe that would change with time. Then again, Renée had never had a sister-in-law; Charlie and Phil were both only children, so really, who knew what it would be like to marry into a family the size of the Cullens'?

"Edward's siblings are all certainly…close," Phil said. He was standing beside her now, having gone to get them both a glass of champagne.

Renée smacked him playfully on the arm—after she'd taken her champagne though. "Be nice. I'll admit, it's a pretty remarkable coincidence that Alice is dating Jasper and Emmett is dating Rosalie, but stranger things have happened. Haven't you ever heard those stories about two brothers from one family marrying two sisters from another? Though, I guess it sort of sounds like something out of an old movie when I put it like that."

Phil nodded, still smiling mischievously. "Sure. Still, maybe Carlisle and Esme should start a matchmaking service."

Renée laughed, leaning against him as they watched the kids dance. "Come on, don't joke about it. Can't you just imagine how awkward it would be at that age, to want to date someone you live with? I guess that by the time they met, they were all too old to see each other as siblings, but still. Sometime, I'm going to have to ask Esme how the whole dating conversation went."

"'Mom, I'd like to start dating my adopted sibling.' You mean that conversation?" Phil said, raising his eyebrows."Yeah, I'm definitely thinking that whole idea took some getting used to. Something like that would be awkward at any age. And I bet the kids at school were pretty hard on them too."

"Bella and Edward's friends from school all seem nice enough," Renée said, searching the crowd for the kids in question. "But you're right—I could never get used to the small town vibe of Forks, and I certainly wouldn't have wanted to be a teenager here, especially if I was dating someone I was technically related to. I mean, if it weren't for Edward, I can't imagine that Bella would have stayed here instead of coming with us to Florida…"

Renée trailed off, imagining that scenario for a moment, as she often had in the past. Then she shook her head.

"Never mind. She's happy, and that's what matters."

Phil kissed her on the cheek. "You're a great mom. That's why she's such a great kid."

Renée rolled her eyes. "Though I would love to take credit for Bella's maturity, I really can't, at least not entirely, though maybe if I were more mature, she would have been more kid-like when she was younger. Since it was just the two of us though, I sometimes felt more like her older sister than her mother."

Phil shrugged. "You were pretty young when she was born. And anyway, from everything you've told me, Bella's always been pretty grown up. Maybe that's just her personality."

"It's Edward's too, I think," Renée said, grinning at Bella as she and her new husband danced by a few yards away. "Which is why I think they're a very good couple. And they've got good role models too, in Edward's parents."

Just then, Carlisle and Esme passed them on the dance floor, both of them looking ridiculously young and beautiful as always. (Graceful too: Alice had told Renée earlier that the entire family had taken dancing lessons before the wedding, and it showed.) Renée had once thought that she might envy Esme, before she'd met Bella's beautiful new mother-in-law, but now that Renée knew her, Esme Cullen seemed so sweet and hardworking that it was impossible not to think that she deserved everything she had. Still, as she watched Carlisle and Esme dance, Renée couldn't imagine how anyone could possibly look so young and gorgeous and fit and happy with five teenagers in the house (never mind that Emmett and Rosalie had already moved out, and that Edward was about to).

"Man, I can't imagine having kids at their age," Phil said wonderingly, also watching the Cullens—they were hard to miss. "You did it too, and really, that always amazes me. I couldn't have done it."

"I can't imagine having _teenagers_ at their age, even really well-behaved ones," Renée said. "It made me a little nervous at first, how perfect Bella made them sound when she described the Cullens to me—I thought they must belong to some kind of cult or something. But now that I've met them, I guess it's just who they are. They're just a really unconventional, happy family. I couldn't have asked for better in-laws."

"Speaking of which," Phil said, nodding in the direction of the dance floor. Renée turned in time to see Phil wave to Carlisle and Esme, who were coming toward them.

"Hi!" Renée called. "We're going to dance soon too—we're just trying to have the right amount of champagne first. Too little, and I'll be self-conscious, but too much and I might start breaking out embarrassing dance moves from high school."

The Cullens laughed. "We're being careful to try and avoid that too," Esme said.

Maybe it was the champagne talking, but Renée said, "Phil and I were just talking about what a funny coincidence it is, that Emmett and Rosalie and Jasper and Alice sort of…paired off the way they did."

"Yes, it definitely surprised us too, when they first started talking about dating," Carlisle agreed, smiling fondly at the thought of his children. "Emmett and Rosalie were the first ones, and usually, neither of them is embarrassed by much of anything, but in that case…well, they were both a little shy, asking us for permission." He shrugged. "We didn't mind, as long as they both really wanted to start dating. They were both fifteen at the time, and we thought that the whole thing might make high school pretty hard."

"Until they met Bella, none of our kids really had many friends at school," Esme explained. "I think they kept to themselves because of the whole dating arrangement, but it never made any of them think about changing their minds, even when Alice and Jasper started dating too. By that point, the whole thing sort of seemed like…serendipity. I mean, what were the odds that they would actually pair off the way they did?"

"It's always seemed like they would have started dating no matter what—I mean, if they'd lived with their own parents instead when they'd met," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "They're all surprisingly serious kids when it comes to relationships, so we knew from the beginning that they weren't taking this lightly."

"Didn't you ever worry about them…breaking up?" Phil wondered. "I mean, that would have made things pretty tense at home."

"Surprisingly, it's never come up," Esme said. "I mean, we definitely worried at first, and it could come up in the future, but Rosalie and Emmett are out of the house, and they're still together. Alice and Jasper are going to college together too, so who knows? Maybe they'll meet different people, and they'll start to see each other differently, but so far, it looks like we're going to be planning two more weddings after this one."

Phil chuckled. "Seriously, you guys should really think about starting a dating service."

Carlisle and Esme both laughed. "I don't think so," Carlisle said. "This is only working out, I think, because it happened completely by accident. If we'd tried to make something like this happen on purpose, it never would have worked."

Renée couldn't help but grin as she watched Edward's four siblings, still dancing together. "Well, I'm glad it did. They all seem really happy together. Just like you guys."

The Cullens chuckled again, smiling at each other. "Thank you," Esme said.

Hopefully, Edward and Bella would turn out to be like Carlisle and Esme: they were young, but they wouldn't just make their marriage work—they'd be genuinely happy in it. (They'd be flexible and open-minded too, because given the dating habits of their other children, Carlisle and Esme were certainly that.) Looking at Phil, all Renée could think was that all of them were living proof of the same idea: it was possible to find lasting love at any age.


	229. Sparring

Hi everyone! Sorry for the really, _really_ late update, but last Sunday, my computer crashed. So, yeah, I only just got it back yesterday (after getting the hard drive replaced), but at least I already had this chapter written. Being away for so long felt weird, but at least it gave me a chance to work on new chapters of "The Honeymoon" as well as "Stregoni Benefici, Unico" (which I promise to post soon), so that was fun. (Also, I had a great visit with my mom two weeks ago, in part because I wasn't trying to hang out with her and hurrying to edit a chapter at the same time. :)) Thanks as always for your reviews, which really make my day—I'm always so happy when someone says they've taken the time to read or even reread this whole thing (which has gotten really long over the years), so thanks to fans of "Eternity" both new and old. :) See you next Sunday with another chapter!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and OHMYGOSH, they're turning "New Moon" into a graphic novel! I thought they were only going to do that with "Twilight"! The first half of "New Moon" as a graphic novel comes out (according to Amazon) on October 30th! Already so excited! :)

_2006_: Sparring

Carlisle's POV

"All right, now try to hit me as hard as you can."

Carlisle shifted uncomfortably, stalling for time. "Are you sure we're really practicing, or are we about to reenact a scene from 'Fight Club'?"

Esme rolled her eyes. "Carlisle, don't worry. We both know you won't actually hit me—I'm going to dodge."

"Okay," Carlisle said, but he still felt reluctant to move.

Esme watched him hesitate and sighed. "Should we try it with me trying to hit you first?"

"Yes, thank you," Carlisle said, relieved. He and Esme were standing on the lawn between the house and the river. It was raining, and since Carlisle had a day off, and Edward and Alice were at school (while Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie were off hunting somewhere in western Canada), they'd decided to practice sparring. So far, they hadn't really gotten any serious practicing accomplished, for the simple fact that Carlisle was more than a little uncomfortable with the prospect of even pretending to hit Esme.

Even when she'd been a newborn, he'd never sparred with her seriously—she'd thrown him a fair distance once when he'd stopped her from following the scent of a human while they'd been hunting, and after that, Carlisle had told himself that Esme was fully capable of taking care of herself, regardless of her lack of fighting experience. Really, it was a bit self-serving of him: the fact was, Esme was probably a better fighter than he was, for the simple fact that she was smaller and more agile, and to really be a match for her, Carlisle would have had to overcome his natural inclination to fight defensively instead of offensively, and in doing so, he was afraid that he might hurt her…but Esme had insisted that they would both benefit from more practice before the coming battle with the newborns. So far though, they'd done nothing but get soaked through with rain, and though Esme had assured him that she wasn't uncomfortable with the violent moves they were pantomiming, he certainly was.

Carlisle dodged easily as Esme aimed a blow at his head. Then he smiled slightly. "I know you can move faster than that."

"Yes, but for now, let's start slowly and work our way up to some more realistic moves," Esme said patiently. "Come on, it's your turn now."

Carlisle sighed. Esme wasn't uncomfortable, so he shouldn't be either. Still moving a bit more slowly than necessary, Carlisle sprang at Esme as though he were going to hit her in the head—she easily avoided the attack, and she actually grinned as he shot past her harmlessly.

"See?" she said gently. "I'm fine, Carlisle. Really, how could sparring with you in our backyard in the middle of a thunderstorm remind me of unpleasant human memories? This is completely different."

"I know," Carlisle said sheepishly. "I never saw you flinch once when you and Jasper sparred together—I was the one who was edgy. I just worried that…on top of everything else, practicing fighting would just make this even worse for you."

Esme frowned. "It's not the practice sessions that I'm worried about—pretending to hit you and the others is easy, because I know it isn't real. But striking someone with the intent to really kill them, even if they are trying to kill me and everyone I love…well, that's going to be harder."

"That's true," Carlisle said, "but at least then, I'll be able to tell myself that I'm protecting you and our family. As an idea, I think I prefer really attacking an enemy to pretending to attack you. I know it isn't real, but it still feels…unpleasant."

Esme sighed. "I think we're both over-thinking this. I mean, in the battle itself, I think that for the most part, we'll be able to count on instinct to take over. Worrying like this beforehand isn't going to help us. Still…"

"We still need to practice," Carlisle said reluctantly. Jasper was right—he'd told Carlisle quietly one evening that he and Esme weren't really suited for fighting, and that they'd do well to stay together during the battle so they could watch each other's backs. He'd assured them both that they'd do fine when the time came, but in the meantime, they were both prone to fretting over things they couldn't control, which in this situation amounted to nearly everything.

"So what do you think we should do?"

"Maybe instead of pretending to fight each other, let's turn this into a sort of game," Esme said, smiling playfully. "If we're relaxed, we'll both do better at this. So, let's say that for every time one of us tries a real attack on the other—and I mean no holding back, no moving slowly—then the person who was being attacked has to remove an article of clothing."

Carlisle laughed, amused but intrigued too. "So if I really make an honest attempt to attack you, you'll take off a piece of clothing?"

"And so will you, whenever I put genuine effort into attacking you," Esme said with a grin. "That way, maybe we'll have the necessary motivation to really put some effort into honing our fighting skills."

Carlisle had already been admiring Esme's figure through her wet clothes. Thus far, he'd succeeded in distracting himself from her appearance by focusing on the more serious matter at hand, but now it seemed that she was probably right: perhaps the only way to deal with this situation was to stop obsessing over the danger to come (which inevitably brought out his overprotective impulses, which weren't helping), and instead treat it as a chance to simply play a game with Esme. It certainly sounded like a thoroughly entertaining game…

"All right," Carlisle said with a grin. "Shall I go first, or would you like to?"

"I'll start," Esme said, baring her teeth in a fearsome smile as she sprang at him. That time, she managed to grab his arm and even mimed biting him before she let go. Carlisle smiled at that and removed a shoe. Next, he charged at Esme and made a grab for her head—when she dodged, he ducked down and attempted to hold her leg to knock her off her feet. She avoided the move, but only just, and she smiled approvingly at him as she removed one of her shoes in turn.

The first several turns proceeded in a similar fashion, as they took turns attacking each other, avoiding maneuvers, and then removing shoes and socks depending on whose turn it was. After that though, things grew more interesting as Esme decided to take off her shirt in response to Carlisle's very nearly succeeding in tackling her. For his part, Carlisle wasn't sure if the move had been a sincere attack so much as indicative of his desire to really catch her and carry her up to their bedroom, but once she'd thrown her shirt onto the grass, Carlisle found that he wasn't really very concerned with his initial motivation.

Then, because he was rather distracted, Esme did succeed in tackling him. As soon as he hit the ground, she tore his shirt off, and after that, things progressed as they usually did in such situations, only this time, they were shredding each other's clothing and kissing while stretched out together on the lawn, and thanks to the thunderstorm still in progress above them, they were both covered in mud and rainwater by the time they were finished. Though they'd lost the plot before the end of their little game, at least they'd finally done some proper sparring.

"Since you destroyed my pants and I destroyed yours, does that mean we both won?" Esme wondered.

Carlisle grinned just as lightning flashed over the forest. "Sure. You know, someday, we're going to be struck by lightning, doing things like this."

Esme raised her eyebrows. "Really? But we rarely wind up in this state outside, and the odds of it happening are astronomical, aren't they?"

"True, and since I don't anticipate being electrocuted will result in any ill effects for us, I can't say I really mind taking the risk," Carlisle said with a shrug, pulling her close and kissing her again, tasting the rain on her lips.

Just then, they both heard the sound of a car horn honking.

"Poor Alice must have seen us," Esme said with a slightly rueful smile. "So, of course, Edward's seen us too."

Carlisle nodded, glancing toward the driveway. "I suppose the least we can do is get inside before they see with their eyes what they've already seen in their heads."

Esme laughed and took his hand, and he snatched up the remains of their clothes before they dashed toward the back porch. They were going to have to clean up a small river of mud in the living room later, and Carlisle still remembered that the battle to come would be dangerous. But at least for now, he and Esme had discovered a way to enjoy sparring and make it productive too…if only temporarily.


	230. Clouds

Hi again! Sorry for the late update, but I got a new kitty this weekend! (He's very sweet, but he would rather I spend my time petting him than editing fanfic. :)) In this chapter, the Cullens go to the beach on a cloudy day (it being May, I'm starting to look forward to summer, though ironically, I rarely go to the beach myself), and they think about times when they were almost caught outside in sunlight with humans present—I feel like this is something that would have happened a lot before they knew Alice. :) Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews, and I'll be back again next week with another new chapter!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and wow, only 185 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 2! :)

_2007_: Clouds

Emmett's POV

It was August, and heavy clouds threatened rain, but despite the humidity, Alice was fairly certain that the rain was going to fall north of them, which meant that it was a cloudy but precipitation-free day at the beach. There weren't any humans in sight, but everyone was being careful not to do anything conspicuous—they'd worn wetsuits today instead of swimsuits and brought surf boards, since it was choppy enough for surfing, but a little too choppy for most humans to swim comfortably. Jacob and most of his pack had met up with them, preferring to run to the beach instead of going by car, and ever since they'd arrived Alice had been reminding everyone to be careful, because she couldn't see anything.

"I keep thinking that this isn't going to bother me someday, but sometimes I'm not sure," Alice muttered, glaring at Jacob while he and Nessie built a sandcastle.

Emmett grinned and handed Nessie a seashell to decorate the castle with—rather than surfing, everyone had gathered around to watch her play. "You worry too much, Alice. Most humans aren't going to look outside today and decide that it looks like great weather for going to the beach."

"We'll swim toward Canada in a little while so you can see," Jasper said, and in a moment, everyone felt more relaxed. Emmett had never realized just how much they all depended on Alice's visions so constantly until the presence of the wolves had begun to limit what she could see.

"What did you guys do before Alice came along to warn you about sudden changes in cloud cover?" Bella wondered, helping Nessie to build a rock wall around her castle out of small, colorful stones.

"We all had to watch the weather more carefully," Edward said with a shrug. "And we had a lot more close calls."

"Yeah, we almost got caught coming home from school one time," Emmett said, glancing at Rosalie, who rolled her eyes.

"You did get caught, technically, except the only person who saw you was a baby in a stroller—lucky for us, the mother was looking away from us when the sun came out from behind a cloud."

"We ended up lurking under the trees in a park, moving every time the shade did, until the sun set," Emmett said, laughing. It had been fun, rather than inconvenient, to be trapped by the sun that day, simply because he'd been trapped with Rose.

"There were a lot of moments like that when I lived in the south," Jasper said, shaking his head. "As a rule, we didn't even go outside during the day unless it was raining, and even then, it was considered safer to just wait until night if you wanted to travel."

"It's not like people would have even known what you were though," Quil pointed out. "Most humans don't know what real vampires look like, so what's the big deal about getting caught in the sun?"

"Aside from the fact that we're very conspicuous, and humans might talk about having seen us," Carlisle pointed out, "there's always the danger that another vampire might see us and tell others that we'd been indiscreet."

"We almost got caught in the sun on our wedding day," Esme said, smiling fondly at Carlisle. "When we got out of the church, it was still mostly cloudy, but sunshine was just starting to show around the edges of the clouds, so we hurried to the car before a stray sunbeam could catch us."

Jacob laughed. "Yikes. So you were actually _hoping_ for rain on your wedding day."

"Sort of," Esme said with a smile. "I was hoping for clouds, mostly. Rain was optional."

Everyone stood around talking for a while, and though Emmett was still getting used to hanging out with people who smelled bad, he had to admit that it was fun tossing a football around with the wolves. It was just after he'd passed the ball to Quil that Emmett caught Embry staring at Rosalie (in large part because he was so conspicuously trying _not_ to stare at Rosalie). After decades of being married to the most beautiful woman in the world, he was used to it, but it still cracked him up when Embry met his eyes and then looked away, looking like he was about to die of embarrassment. The football continued to soar across the beach though, so Emmett didn't say anything. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Esme go to the car to get a cooler of food for the wolves, and while she was gone, Embry did something with his cell phone. A few seconds later, Emmett's phone buzzed—he had a text.

_Sorry 4 staring at your wife—it just freaks me out that someone so hot could kill me in about a second._

Emmett laughed. "How do you even have my number?" he called over to the wolf.

"Jake got it from Bella, and I got it from him," Embry said sheepishly.

"Puppies have our numbers now? Lovely," Rosalie said dryly.

"Rose," Esme said, giving her a look as she set the cooler down and opened it. "Here guys, come and get it."

"Thanks, as usual, for lunch," Seth said, grabbing a soda and a sandwich. Just then, the clouds above parted momentarily, and sunlight struck the cooler. Seth turned and raised his eyebrows at Esme, who was looking up at the sky thoughtfully.

"I think it's okay," she said, smiling as the clouds shifted, obscuring the sun again. Emmett grinned too; he never minded close calls with the sun. When he'd been human, he'd loved sunny days, and one of the only things that annoyed him about being a vampire was having to avoid sunshine like the plague. But of course, on cloudy days like this, he could be outside with his family, and their new friends...friends like Embry, who Emmett was sure would appreciate the joke if he shook up a can of soda before handing it to the wolf boy. Today at least, surrounded by his wife, parents, siblings, niece, and wolfy friends, Emmett didn't really mind the clouds.


	231. Graduation

Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update, but not only did I have guests this weekend, I was emotionally drained last week after reading "City of Lost Souls." :( Anyway, this week's chapter focuses on Esme, and her possible thoughts upon graduating from college for the first time. (I'm not sure why I didn't write a chapter like this last year, right after I had just graduated myself, but maybe I needed more time to pass to think about it philosophically the way Esme does. :)) Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm so glad to have my computer back! (I had to reinstall a bunch of programs with the new hard drive though, and some things still seem a bit strange…but oh well, I'll get used to it.)

_1932: Graduation_

Esme's POV

A few people were complaining about the rainy weather as Esme took her seat in the auditorium, but of course, she, Edward, and Carlisle were all relieved that they wouldn't have to spend the afternoon lurking in shadowy corners or under trees (or else make an excuse for leaving early) while other happy graduates and their families took part in an outdoor celebration following the commencement ceremony. This way, it wouldn't seem strange to stay inside, and though they'd still leave early, so would most of the rest of the crowd, for no one would want to linger in a drafty building on a cool day like this. Esme loved days like this one, when the natural inclinations of humans were such that the usual standoffishness of vampires seemed unremarkable.

Esme was happy, but nervous too. On the one hand, after the mistakes she'd made in the past, it was still a bit nerve-wracking to be surrounded by humans for any length of time. But on the other hand, this was a day for celebration—she was finally going to graduate from college, with a bachelor's degree in art. It was something that she'd never imagined she'd ever do. When she'd been human, her parents had never had the money, and they'd seen college as an unnecessary extravagance for a woman of marriageable age, as had Charles. But even when she'd become a vampire, and even when she'd started attending college courses, Esme had hardly dared to dream that this day would ever really come.

As a newborn, she'd never been able to imagine that someday, the scent of humans wouldn't set her throat burning unbearably—it still burned now, but it was tolerable, possible to ignore. She'd feared that thirst would always be foremost in her mind, and though it still was at times, after over ten years as a vampire, Esme felt that sitting through a ceremony like this one was manageable, and though still not entirely comfortable, well worth the discomfort it entailed. Her control wasn't perfect yet, but she knew that with Carlisle and Edward to help her, she would keep improving, becoming less dangerous with every passing year. Someday, she might even get to use her degree by working like Carlisle did—the idea of actually getting paid for doing something she loved was thrilling, though it was still at least several years (or maybe decades) away.

As the last of the students and other attendees took their seats, Esme glanced back at Carlisle and Edward. They both waved, Carlisle grinning enthusiastically, and Edward, more subdued but smiling. Ever since he'd returned to them, Edward had seemed by turns the same boy she remembered and a different one entirely. He often seemed somber, though Esme was sure that he regretted the nomadic life he'd left behind him, not the one he'd come back to. And if Esme was really being honest with herself, she knew that a part of her too regretted the decisions he'd made. But every day, Esme was just so happy to see him, to have him home with her and Carlisle again, that she could never bring herself to reproach him for his actions of the past few years. Edward did more than enough of that himself.

Today at least though, Edward seemed almost like his old self again. Perhaps it would be a long time before Edward was truly happy again, but it seemed promising that he was even here today, and it touched Esme that he was apparently trying to be happy for her sake. However, Esme hoped that a day would soon come when Edward wouldn't have to _try_ to be happy.

When the ceremony finally started, Esme found herself only half-listening to the words, but rather examining her fellow graduates instead. The vast majority of them were men, but there were three other women in her class, for which Esme had been very grateful—that way, she hadn't stood out as much. Esme was looking forward to studying architecture one day, but for her first degree, she'd decided that she wanted more training in the basics of being an artist, and she wanted to obtain such in classes where her presence, though noticed, would not be marveled at, as it would have been had she majored in architecture.

Esme wondered what the other graduates, both male and female, were going to do next. Would they teach art, or find work in museums or galleries, or would some really be able to turn the creation of art into a career? Esme marveled at the courage it must take to pursue such an uncertain future. As a human, she'd loved art, but she'd gravitated toward teaching both because she'd loved children and because it had seemed more stable, more practical, a reliable source of income that would allow her to support herself without Charles.

Now that she was married to Carlisle (and now that she was no longer human either), Esme delighted in the freedom and support, both financial and emotional, that had allowed her to pursue her dream of going to college. It was incredible, being unhampered by what others might think of her for doing so, and being married to a man like Carlisle, whose love for her included respect for her intelligence. (Esme made a mental note to pursue a private celebration with Carlisle later that evening; hopefully, Edward wouldn't mind leaving the house and going hunting for a few hours...)

Though Esme was both pleased and amazed by how far she'd come in terms of self control the past few years, she couldn't help but be impressed by the accomplishments of the humans around her as well. They too had worked hard to get to this day, and they would face new hardships after graduation. But as Esme accepted her diploma and shook hands with the smiling dean, Edward and Carlisle clapping behind her, Esme couldn't look toward the future with anything but hope. She was married to the man she loved, her son was finally home, and though she knew that her family would inevitably face new trials in the years to come, Esme was confident that they would share many more triumphs as well.


	232. Pastime

Hi everyone! This week's chapter deals with how Charlie might try to balance his curiosity about the Cullens with the knowledge that he's probably better off not knowing what they really are. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and did you see the new images for "Breaking Dawn" Part 2? They're really pretty…only a few more months to go! :)

_2007: Pastime_

Charlie's POV

Driving home from the Cullen's place, Charlie had a lot to think about (as he always did when he left his in-laws), and even more that he felt it was important to not think about, if he wanted to preserve what was left of his sanity. For one thing, he had a granddaughter. That was something he'd accepted a long time ago, but every time he saw Nessie, it was still a shock all over again, mostly because she had the same eyes that he and Bella did…though Bella's eyes weren't exactly the same shade of brown they used to be. Nessie was way bigger than any kid who'd been a baby this time last year could be too. The whole thing was impossible. But Charlie loved Nessie just the same, maybe in part because her very existence seemed so inexplicable.

Then there was Bella. Bella was…different, and it wasn't just her eyes that had changed. Ever since she'd gotten back from her honeymoon and he'd finally gotten to see her, there'd been something strange about her. Personality-wise, she was still essentially the same, but she wasn't clumsy anymore, and maybe it was because she was a mom now, but she seemed somehow more…intense.

Charlie wondered if that was just the way it was for every parent: before you had kids, you saw the world one way, but after you had kids, everything seemed different, like there was danger lurking around every corner. It hadn't helped that Charlie had become a cop right around the same time he'd become a parent. Now, he could only vaguely remember a time when he hadn't been so suspicious of the world at large.

So maybe that was why Bella seemed…changed. Considering the whole weird situation with the Cullen family, Charlie would have been surprised if Bella hadn't seemed a bit worried about the world that her daughter was going to grow up in. After all, without knowing all the details, Charlie knew now that the world was an ever stranger and more dangerous place than two decades as a cop had led him to expect.

The whole thing with having to pretend that Bella was dead was…unpleasant, to say the least. But Charlie could understand the need for secrecy after seeing what Jacob Black could do. Charlie shook his head at the thought of what Jacob had shown him a year ago—the thought of the kid's flesh melting into fur, his bones shifting horribly into something else—he and Billy had never really discussed the whole thing, and that was fine by Charlie. What could he say? "So, your son can turn into a wolf?"

No, it was probably better that most people in the world didn't know about secrets like Jacob's, and some days, Charlie was a little sorry that _he_ knew, but other than the obvious, Jacob still seemed like the same kid he'd always been. If Bella and her new family had similar secrets, then Charlie had decided months ago that he was willing to help keep them…even if doing so meant lying to the entire town. Carlisle and Esme had explained to him that it was safer, having things as they were, and Charlie believed it; he didn't like to imagine the panic that would ensue if people in town had any idea what kind of creatures were lurking in the woods outside of Forks. But sometimes, there were things that were so strange that Charlie couldn't help but comment, though he was careful only to share his observations with Sue.

When he got home, she was there, heating something up for dinner. Charlie had never asked her to cook for him—he would probably live on pizza and frozen dinners if he had to (and he practically had before Bella had moved in with him), but Sue still cooked for Seth and Leah, and she insisted that it was never any trouble to make an extra portion. Before they'd started dating, he'd wondered if she just felt sorry for him, a bachelor of almost twenty years whose only kid was out of the house and getting married too young for his taste. But now Charlie understood that, as with Bella, cooking was a way that Sue could show she loved someone without having to say anything.

"Hi," she said, setting two plates on the table. "How was baseball at the Cullens'?"

"Weird," Charlie said decidedly, staring down at his plate while Sue pulled a baking dish out of the oven. "I mean, they're all ridiculously athletic, so watching them play is a little…unnerving. Even Alice could probably play for the majors if it weren't for the whole…secrecy thing. It's just strange, seeing Bella being athletic too. And Nessie's just learning to play, but yikes, the kid could probably take down an entire little league team already."

"It's sort of reassuring and creepy at the same time, seeing our kids the way they are now," Sue said quietly. "I mean, I'm happy that they seem to be adjusting to all the…changes in their lives. But it's different too. I mean, it's pretty painfully obvious that we can't protect them anymore. The way they are now, I guess they don't really need it, but…sometimes I worry they need protection more than regular kids."

"Well, they're all adults now anyway," Charlie said, trying to sound casual. "Except Seth, though the kid's as big as a house already. We've just gotta hope that they can take care of themselves, in spite of all the weirdness."

Sue nodded, smiling slightly as she served some shrimp and fries from the baking dish. "So, who won the game?"

"Bella's team," Charlie said, still feeling incredulous about that fact. "It was boys against girls. It seemed like a pretty close game to me, but Nessie said afterward that she thought the guys let them win. It was hard to tell though. They all move…really fast."

"I'll bet," Sue said, laughing.

"I guess they've been baseball fans for a long time too," Charlie said, trying to focus on his food but still fixated on the strangeness of the day. "Today, I heard Emmett and Jasper talking about their favorite games…from the 1950s."

"Well, I guess a lot of guys are into sports trivia," Sue said, smiling knowingly at him. "You know, for fantasy baseball and stuff like that."

Charlie chuckled. "Yeah. I guess I like that explanation a lot better than the alternative."

Charlie was so glad that he knew Sue. With her, he didn't have to pretend that Bella was gone, and she understood how unnerving it was for your child to become something…else. Together, they could try and help their kids as best they could, and they could make each other happy—Harry's death had reminded them both of just how short life could be, and how important it was to enjoy things while you could. And with Sue around, Charlie could at least pretend that the Cullens' apparently extensive knowledge of the history of baseball was due to nothing stranger than a shared love of the American pastime.


	233. Alibi

Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update; on Sunday night, I had to make cookies in preparation for the Teen Summer Reading Program kickoff party, so it was either make cookies or edit this chapter. (I chose the former, and the cookies came out pretty well, though I was just glad my coworkers didn't eat them before the teens could. :)) Then, Monday night, I had to work late because of the aforementioned party, and last night, Firefox crashed when I was almost done editing this chapter, and I was too tired to start over. So, here we are. (In case you were wondering. :)) Anyway, this week's chapter deals with Rosalie, and how she might have felt during World War II, when, for all of the Cullens, the need for secrecy would have conflicted with a desire to help the world at large. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again on Sunday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and have you seen the cover of the first "New Moon" graphic novel? It's so pretty! :)

_1942: Alibi_

Rosalie's POV

It was a chilly fall day, the first day of a new school year, and Rosalie was in a foul mood. Because of the war, Edward and Emmett weren't allowed to go to school for fear of attracting attention in a town that almost every fit young man had disappeared from, but Rosalie had agreed, reluctantly, to make an appearance at the local high school until such time as a new house could be found and a new alibi established. Emmett had slipped a few weeks before, which was why they'd had to leave their old home and identities behind so suddenly, taking care to cover their tracks in the process. But now, it seemed that life was finally returning to an even keel. Well, a boring keel anyway, since Rosalie would be back in high school for the time being.

It was likely that she would only be attending school for a day or so, a fact that comforted Rosalie only slightly. Carlisle had found a veterans hospital to volunteer in, while Esme got their affairs in order in preparation for relocating again. Meanwhile, her husband and Edward could do little but tend the Victory Garden on cloudy days or else mope about the house.

Rosalie knew that she should just be glad to have a chance to get outside, to be able to be seen in public—what she really wanted was to get a job to help with the war effort, and maybe after they'd settled in a new town where no one knew them, it would be possible—but the boys couldn't even do that. In spite of their pallor, they were both too healthy-looking for their not being shipped overseas to make sense. Still, it was galling to have to pretend to care about school when there were so many more important things going on in the world—things that vampires, as always, had to stay on the fringe of for fear of risking exposure.

The need for secrecy irritated Rosalie now more than ever before. In the past, she'd been happy to think that thanks to the Cullens' caution (or paranoia, as she sometimes thought of it), no one she'd known as a human would ever find out what had really happened to her, or Royce King and his loathsome friends. The people she'd loved when she'd been alive would always have to wonder what had become of her, but Rosalie preferred that to their having to know how she'd died, or what she'd become afterward. But now, when she thought of how much damage Emmett could do in a warzone, how frustrated he was at being unable to fight, she couldn't help but wish that they didn't have to be quite so discreet.

Then again, she was secretly relieved that Emmett, almost indestructible as he was, wouldn't have to risk destruction on some far away battlefield, as so many other women's husbands were doing right now. She would never tell Emmett that though. Knowing that she worried about him like that might only depress him further.

Walking to school, Rosalie opened her umbrella as it began to rain. She wondered how her parents and her little brothers were helping with the war effort. How many men in her family were already fighting overseas? How many had died? Rosalie hated not knowing, but she and Emmett had agreed that it was probably better not to know than to know and be unable to do anything to help. Emmett had brothers too, after all, and he felt even more powerless than she did, knowing he couldn't fight alongside them.

A few blocks from her destination, Rosalie spotted something that immediately made her sigh in irritation. It was a little girl, maybe seven or eight years old, standing under an awning to keep out of the rain, and she was crying.

"Lovely," Rosalie said grimly. "Just what I needed this morning." Then she walked over to the girl—she wasn't in a helpful mood, but she still felt that she had no choice but to help anyone who looked so pitiful.

"All right, what's the matter?" Rosalie said abruptly. The girl looked startled, and for a moment, she stopped crying, so great was her surprise. But then her tears resumed when she realized that Rosalie was really talking to her.

"I'm lost," she said, weeping miserably.

Rosalie sighed again and pulled a handkerchief out of her purse. "Here. Now stop crying and tell me where you're going."

"School," the girl said, wiping her runny nose. "We just moved here to stay with grandma while Daddy's gone, and I saw the school once from the car, but now I can't remember where it is!"

Rosalie tried not to glare at the girl as she sobbed. "The elementary school is that way. Hurry up and I'll show you were it is."

Immediately, the girl brightened and stepped under Rosalie's umbrella. Then, without being told to, she took Rosalie's hand.

"Your hand's cold," the girl observed.

"Yeah, well, it's cold out today," Rosalie said, her voice as chilly as her hands. The girl didn't seem to notice her tone though.

"My daddy's fighting in France," she said. 'That's why we moved here. Mommy has a job in the factory, and grandma's teaching me to knit, so I can send Daddy a scarf. Can you knit?"

"Yes," Rosalie said shortly. Then, for some reason unclear to her, she admitted, "I've knitted scarves for my husband. He wears them out very quickly."

"What colors did you make them?" the girl asked. "I wrote Daddy a letter asking what his favorite color is, but he hasn't answered yet, so I'm just making it green. Is green okay for boys?"

"I think it's fine," Rosalie said, smiling slightly at the girl, almost against her will. "My husband likes green."

The elementary school was only about a block away by then, but the rain had gotten worse. Just then, Rosalie heard the bell ring. Clearly, the girl did too, because it looked like she was about to cry again.

"Here," Rosalie said, pushing the umbrella into the girl's hand. "Take this, and run. You won't be late."

"You'll get wet!" the girl cried, but Rosalie had already turned and stepped out into the rain. She was careful to run at a human pace, but after only a few seconds of feeling raindrops battering her hair and coat, she felt something above her blocking the rain. Gritting her teeth, Rosalie turned to find Carlisle jogging beside her, offering his umbrella.

"I'd rather get wet," she hissed at him, but he didn't stop holding the umbrella over her, and Rosalie, with some surprise, realized that she felt no inclination to push him over and get soaked. After a few moments, she slowed to a walk, and he did too, and though neither of them spoke, he walked with her to the high school, pulling the umbrella back over himself only when she was under the awning by the door.

"Have a good day," he said quietly, smiling at her slightly. Rosalie scowled at him. How could she explain that she hadn't helped the girl because it was the right thing to do, but rather, that she'd helped her because it was what a human would have done, and Rosalie was determined to cling to whatever humanity she had left?

"That wasn't what you think," she said. "I was just…" But after a moment of thought, Rosalie turned and went into the building without another word. Try as she might, she hadn't been able to come up with either a plausible or flattering alibi for why she was spontaneously helping lost schoolchildren.


	234. Recollection

Hi everyone! This week's chapter concerns Carlisle and Esme having to deal with an unexpected problem; I feel like the kind of scenario described below would be something that Carlisle would occasionally face after so many years as a doctor, and even if he could convince the person in question that they were mistaken, the Cullens would probably have to move after an encounter like this. (This chapter also mentions something that's going to happen in "Stregoni Benefici, Unico" eventually.)

Next, I must apologize: there won't be a new chapter next week, because I'll be out of town all weekend. I'll be back the following weekend though, and I'll try to have a chapter of "Stregoni" finished too. :) Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again in two weeks! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and there are only 158 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 2! :)

_1971_: Recollection

Carlisle's POV

Standing under the fluorescent lights in the lobby of the hospital, eager for his shift to end so he could get home to Esme, Carlisle strolled toward the waiting room—he heard a heartbeat there, and he wondered who might be sitting alone in the waiting room at 3:30 in the morning. It had been a busy week, but it was quiet tonight—Carlisle had finished his rounds, so he decided to return to his office and finish some paperwork as soon as he checked on whoever was in the waiting room. When he walked inside, he found that the person in question was an old woman, and she was staring at him thoughtfully.

He'd heard a family come in a few minutes before with a crying child—another doctor was seeing to them down in Emergency, so Carlisle guessed that this woman had come down here to escape the chaos of the waiting room—even at three in the morning, it was always lively. He offered a small smile to the woman and nodded politely as he examined her. She was old, her silver hair striking against her skin, which was the color of mocha and relatively unlined for a woman that Carlisle guessed was in her seventies.

"Hello," she said quietly. "Any idea how my grandson's doing?"

"No, but I can check if you'd like," Carlisle offered.

"That's all right," the woman said. "They said he'll be fine, and I'm sure he will be, but…he's my youngest grandson, so I can't help but worry."

Carlisle had heard the boy crying when he'd come in. "Was it a broken bone?"

"Yes," the woman said, raising her eyebrows. "He fell out of his bunk bed. But how did you guess?"

"At this time of night, it's usually a broken bone or a sudden illness," Carlisle said with a shrug, still smiling gently. She didn't seem too badly shaken up, but she clearly wanted someone to talk to, so Carlisle sat down a few seats away from her; people were usually uncomfortable if he sat too close. Down the hall, Carlisle could hear the phone ringing in his office, and he almost excused himself to go answer it, but something made him stay put.

"I'm sure you're going to say that I'm making a mistake, but…you and I have met before," the woman said suddenly, turning in her chair to look at him.

Carlisle made his expression one of polite bemusement. "We have? I'm sorry, I don't remember…"

"It was a long time ago," the woman said with a chuckle, "and I'm sure you've helped lots of people since then. I was, oh, about my grandson's age when we met, so this would have been…about sixty years ago."

Carlisle froze then, careful not to let any more than the appropriate amount of surprise show. "I'm afraid that's impossible, since I'm only thirty-two," he said gently, using the humoring tone that, he was sure, older people hated but probably grew accustomed to, the older they got. "I suppose you must have known someone who looked a lot like me."

"Your father maybe, or your grandfather?" the woman said with a knowing smile. "Yes, I suppose you have to say that. If people knew about…whatever you are, I guess that could be a problem. But I know it's you. I never forget a face, and I certainly could never forget yours, especially your eyes. You saved my life, you know."

Carlisle never took his eyes from the woman's. Usually, maintaining eye contact was enough to make people doubt themselves in situations like this; the intensity of his odd-colored eyes would make them think that no, they must have been thinking of someone else, that he couldn't be the same person—it was impossible. He'd been in this situation with elderly people before, who insisted they remembered him, but usually, they were quick to give up, blaming real or imagined encroaching senility. But this woman, clearly, wouldn't be swayed. She was so confident that what she remembered was true…why?

"I met Liza once, you know," she said quietly, and Carlisle couldn't hide his surprise when he heard that, couldn't feign polite confusion.

"I…haven't heard that name in years," he said at last, knowing that when he got home, he and Esme were going to have to make plans to move again. That was what the phone call had been about—Alice must have seen this and called to warn him. At least she and the others were away at college now.

"She lived in my neighborhood," the woman explained. "When I was older, after my family had moved to a different part of Pittsburgh, and somehow, she heard about the accident I'd been in, and how you'd saved me. I remember how surprised people were—that you took such good care of me, and that you wouldn't take any money from my parents—a rich white man like you...well, you remember how things were back then. Our neighbors thought maybe you were going to try and convert us to some crackpot religion after you'd saved my life. My brothers were suspicious, and my parents were just in shock, I think, but me…well, I always thought you were something like an angel.

And then Liza told me that it was true, that there were people in the world who weren't exactly human. That was the night _she_ saved my life, a few years after you did, when some men cornered me in an alley and were going to do I don't like to think what before they killed me. She killed them, and then she told me that I could never tell anyone what I'd seen or what she'd said. And I never have, until tonight."

Carlisle took a deep breath. "She was…rather reckless in her final years."

"So she's gone now?" the old woman said sadly. "Well, that's a shame. I would have liked the chance to thank her again. But at least I can thank you, Dr. Cullen. So, thank you, for the life I've had because of you."

"You don't have to thank me, but...you're welcome," Carlisle said quietly.

"Is Cullen still your name now?"

"It's Collins, at the moment, actually," Carlisle said with a wry smile. This conversation was interesting enough that Carlisle thought he almost wouldn't mind moving again because of it—almost. "And, I should repeat part of what Liza said, though why she said anything to you at all, I don't know: you can't say anything about us."

"I won't," the woman promised, smiling warmly. "And even if I did, people would think it was just the ramblings of a silly old woman."

"Rosemary," Carlisle said suddenly. He'd been trying not to remember the specific incident that had led to his meeting this woman when she was a girl, because that made it easier to lie and say he didn't know her. But now he remembered. "A wagon hit you, coming up the hill by the library. I was heading home, but then I heard your mother scream, and the first thing I noticed was how badly your arm was broken. But by the time I stopped visiting to check on you, it was mostly healed."

"That's right," Rosemary said, looking slightly awed that he really remembered too. "At least it wasn't the hand I write with. It was four years later that I met Liza, and she had the same strange eyes you do, so I guessed that she was like you before she even said anything."

"But why?" Carlisle muttered to himself. "Why did she say anything?"

"I got the feeling that she wanted someone to talk to," Rosemary said thoughtfully. "And she'd heard that a Dr. Cullen had saved my life, so she asked me about you. I told her what I knew, and then I asked if you two were friends. She said that you were, but that you were better off without her."

Carlisle sighed, running a hand through his hair and trying to stay calm, to not think about what had happened to his old friend...how she had been alone in the end… "If you were attacked in the winter of 1915, then I know why she felt that way. But you're better off without my telling you why, so, now I'd better say goodnight."

"All right," Rosemary said thoughtfully, watching as he stood up to go. "Well, it was wonderful to see you again, Dr. Cullen. Before you go though…has your life changed much in the past sixty years? Because mine certainly has."

Carlisle chuckled, memories of Liza fading as he thought about Esme, and Edward, and the family he'd found long after he'd given up hope of ever having such a thing. "It has. For the better."

Then, because he'd already made up his mind to pack up and leave town the following day, the good reputation of Dr. Charles Collins be damned, he sat with Rosemary for a few minutes and they talked about their families. Then she got up to go check on her grandson.

"Maybe I'll see you again in another sixty years," the woman said with a final chuckle, "but I doubt it." Then she disappeared down the hall, and Carlisle looked at the clock. It was four in the morning, his shift finally over, but before he left the hospital, he typed a letter of resignation and left it on the hospital director's desk.

"Hi," Esme said when he came home, her expression sympathetic. She already had quite a few cardboard boxes assembled, and she was sitting in the living room, stacking them in preparation for the packing they'd need to start soon. "Alice called me after she called you. At least it's just the two of us this time—it makes disappearing a lot easier. And at least I won't have to hear Rosalie read you the riot act for breaking our cover."

"I'm sorry," he said, taking her hand as he sat beside her on the couch. "For breaking your cover, I mean. It was just so surprising, having the chance to talk to someone who knew Liza too…I couldn't resist."

"Alice is pretty sure she won't reveal anything," Esme said with a smile. "It's made her life more interesting, having a secret like this, so I guess she's very protective of it. And I'm glad you got to meet someone like Rosemary. You don't get many chances to see how the lives of the people you help turn out."

"You being a notable exception to that rule," Carlisle said, leaning in to kiss her. Yes, Rosemary had had a happy sixty years…and so had he. Six decades of happiness and love seemed like far more than he deserved, but Carlisle would take however much he could get. No amount of time with Esme would ever be enough.


	235. Weather

Hi everyone! This week's (long) chapter deals with Alice using her power to save human lives. I've read a lot of blogs online where people complain about not getting to see Alice do more with her ability than what we see in the books, and I realized that I haven't done many chapters like that, so here's one where Alice foresees a major natural disaster and takes the Cullens on a trip to keep humans out of the way of said disaster. The event described below really happened: a megatsunami hit Lituya Bay, Alaska, on July 9th, 1958, and it was hugely destructive to the landscape in the area, but miraculously, only five people died. So, here I've altered history a bit to give the Cullens a role in the surprisingly low number of fatalities.

My week off was nice, by the way; I had fun visiting my friend last weekend, though in the end, I think we both ended up working on fanfic a bit while I visited. :) Thanks as always for your reviews—I'm so happy that people are still reading "Eternity" after all this time, and that people are still discovering it and reading it all the way through—thanks for taking the time to do so, and I hope to write a lot more chapters you'll enjoy. :) See you again next Sunday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm really looking forward to the "New Moon" graphic novel. (I'm looking forward to the movie too, but the graphic novel is closer. :))

_1958_: Weather

Alice's POV

She was sitting in class the first time she saw it, and though Alice's visions often showed her surprising things, this particular vision made her gasp. Though she immediately turned the gasp into a quiet cough, Edward had clearly seen what she'd seen, and within minutes, they'd both left class, Alice feigning illness and Edward apparently determined to drive her home, to the mild irritation of their professor, who'd often wondered why the strange siblings who aced every test had registered for a summer course in the first place. As soon as they got home, Alice gathered everyone in the living room and told them what she'd seen.

"It's happening tonight," she said gravely. "If we leave this morning, I think we can get there in time to keep most of the humans away, but we have to hurry."

Esme immediately called Carlisle, and within the hour, he had left the hospital, and all of them had packed some supplies and were running for Alaska. Alice was almost glad that Rosalie and Emmett were away on yet another romantic vacation—it was hard to picture Emmett taking even something like this seriously, and in a way, Alice couldn't really blame him. The thing that was coming was going to be spectacular—deadly, but spectacular, and since they couldn't die, it would be more awe-inspiring than terrifying to any vampire who witnessed it.

"Who's planning to come to this place today?" Carlisle asked as they ran; he'd only been given an abbreviated explanation before they'd left. "It looked pretty remote on the map."

"A summer camp, about four hours away," Alice explained. "They're going to bring four buses full of kids to Lituya Bay this afternoon for an overnight camping trip—that is, unless we get there before they plan to leave at two o'clock and make sure that they can't go anywhere."

The trip to Alaska took several hours, and until they reached Canada, they had to go out of their way several times to avoid human habitations, busy freeways, and occasional bursts of sunlight on an otherwise cloudy day. When they finally reached the summer camp they were looking for, it was early afternoon, and several buses were parked in the main courtyard of the camp, clearly being prepared for the trip to Lituya Bay.

Alice cursed quietly. "We'll have to move fast. They're planning to leave soon."

"I'll get the tires," Jasper said quietly. "The rest of you go for the gas tanks."

Everyone agreed, and within seconds, they'd all darted out of the woods surrounding the camp's main yard and were hiding under the buses. _At least there's no one on them yet,_ Alice thought with satisfaction. She was glad they'd arrived in time, but now it was important to do this quickly and carefully and then cover their tracks.

Jasper moved swiftly from bus to bus, stabbing each tire with a finger carefully so that they would all deflate within a few minutes. Meanwhile, everyone else poured sugar into the gas tanks of the buses while occasionally glancing toward the building where they could all hear the sounds of humans. Judging by the distant noises of laughing, talking children, the campers were having lunch before their overnight excursion was scheduled to begin. In less than a minute, the buses had all been disabled, and everyone was able to slip back into the woods.

_Now comes the difficult part_, Alice thought. _Making careful, systematic destruction look like petty vandalism._

Obviously, suspicions would be aroused when the buses were discovered. It would be clear to everyone that they'd been damaged intentionally, but the motive wouldn't be clear unless a bit more damage was done. Edward smiled as Alice considered this, and then they both grinned at what she saw next.

"Yes, I brought spray paint," Edward said, before she could ask. "Rosalie wants to do some detail work on her car, so she left a few cans in the garage. I'll have to buy her some more paint before she gets home."

"Wait a minute," Carlisle said. "It's going to seem strange for vandals to have walked into the middle of the woods, miles and miles from any town, just to damage things at a summer camp. We should have a vehicle than we can let people see us leaving in."

"There was a house a few miles back down the road, near the crossroads," Esme said thoughtfully. "We could…borrow a car from there."

Alice, Edward, and Jasper all grinned. "What?" Esme said defensively. "It's the best way to cover our tracks."

"It's just not often that we hear you say that we should steal a car," Carlisle explained, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek, clearly trying not to laugh. "Honestly though, I think that the two of us look a bit too old to be teenage hoodlums."

"So you're saying that the three of us should be the ones to actually steal the car in question," Edward said, smiling. "Good thing I wore my leather jacket today, if I'm to look the part of a juvenile delinquent."

"Come on, let's hurry," Alice said. "You guys can spray some graffiti while we're gone—that way, this will really look like vandalism."

"Will do," Esme said, taking Edward's backpack, which contained several cans of spray pain. Then she sighed. "I'm glad we're saving lives today, but I'm having to ignore a lot of parenting instincts here."

Carlisle laughed. "Let's talk about that while we're defacing a building and our children are off stealing a car." They disappeared then, racing around to the far side of the camp through the trees, while Alice and the boys took off in the opposite direction, arriving a few minutes later at the house that Esme had mentioned.

"We only have ten minutes until the buses are discovered, so let's move fast," Alice said.

Alice waited while Edward and Jasper hotwired the car, all of them moving as quickly as possible. They could hear the people in the house that stood a few yards from the garage, but that was all right. Witnesses were fine, provided they didn't get close enough to really see their faces. As the car's engine roared to life, the predictable sounds of running footsteps and angry shouts began. Quickly, Alice hopped into the car, Edward beside her in the passenger seat, and Jasper, taking the wheel, sped swiftly away. They shot off down a road that was really no more than two tire tracks leading through grass and brush, the sound of furious human shouts following them into the woods.

"Won't the timing seem off, doing things like this?" Jasper wondered.

Alice shook her head. "Carlisle and Esme haven't gotten caught yet, and no one's going to check the buses for another minute or so. The police are going to think that we stole the car first, then drove to the camp to vandalize it. It won't matter that the stories won't quite add up, assuming the witnesses even know the exact times they saw us—Carlisle's going to be making a rather large anonymous donation to the camp when we get home, so the camp people won't be upset for very long."

"And the owners of this car?' Edward asked, listening to the answer in her head even as she spoke it for Jasper's benefit.

"We'll have to stop and buy them a new car before we go home, then we'll just leave it in the driveway tomorrow with a note. It's going to look a little suspicious, but the people are going to be so glad just to have a car again that they won't ask too many questions."

"Should we buy them a similar car, or a better one?" Jasper wondered, impatiently pressing down on the accelerator. "Because this one certainly isn't very fast."

"Here, drive this way," Alice said, pointing down an even rougher looking two-track road. "If we take this road, everyone will see us escape."

After that, things happened very quickly: as Jasper drove around the back of the camp, they finally heard the sounds of angry shouts and exclamations from the humans who'd discovered the buses. Carlisle and Esme came running at a human pace toward the car and jumped in, then Jasper drove off quickly, but not so quickly that they were only a blur. That way, the humans would be able to see enough of them to give a vague description to the police later, but not so much that anyone got a look at their faces, or their eyes.

"Well, that's that then," Alice said, quietly thrilled that she'd been able to help save so many lives. If it hadn't been for their actions that day, instead of being disappointed at not getting to go on an overnight trip, the children at the camp would have drowned—all of them. Alice had seen it. That was why she'd led everyone here, to keep the vision of dead and dying children out of her head…

It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling for Carlisle, Alice supposed—after all, he saved lives every day. But for Alice and the others, being able to protect human life instead of occasionally and accidentally taking it was a very pleasant novelty. Jasper especially seemed pleased about what they'd done, so of course, everyone else felt the same.

"So," Alice said slowly, smiling back at Carlisle and Esme, who were in the backseat, leaning into each other and laughing about the graffiti they'd done. "Since we're here, shall we go watch the wave when it hits?"

"We might as well," Carlisle said. "As far as I know, things like this only happen every few decades, or every few centuries even. And if there are any humans left in the area, we might be able to help them in time."

So Jasper drove them up to Lituya Bay. It was a long drive, and by the time they arrived, it was nearly dark. Alice scanned her visions for humans in the area, but she couldn't see any, though of course, her visions were hardly foolproof...

"It's unnerving, knowing that there could have been dozens of people here tonight," Carlisle said quietly as they stood on the beach, looking into the distance toward what was coming. Everyone felt the distant rumble as the earthquake that would trigger the wave began.

"That's right," Esme said, taking Carlisle's hand. "We're glad you saw this, Alice. It was wonderful, being able to help, but…I have to admit, I'm a bit excited to see this thing too."

"Me too," Carlisle admitted. "Just when I start to think I've seen everything, the world comes up with something to surprise me."

"Don't thank me too much yet, because here it comes," Alice said, staring toward the horizon. The ocean was calm for now, but that would only last for a few more seconds. "Incidentally, I'm really glad that none of us needs to breathe, because we aren't going to be able to for a while. Also, we're about to get really wet, so…sorry. I'll buy you all new clothes when we get home."

Everyone watched as a wall of water slowly appeared in the distance, and then grew from what looked to be a modest wave far from the shore into a mass of unimaginable width and height. Alice had never seen a tsunami before, but this, she knew, was far bigger than normal. This was something that Alice loved about being immortal: something that should have frightened her simply seemed amazing instead. She grinned at Jasper, he smiled back, squeezed her hand, and then they were underwater.

It was oddly exhilarating to encounter something so much stronger than she was. Alice was careful not to inhale, since it was no fun having to cough up both lungs' worth of water, but she kept her eyes open as the tsunami knocked her off her feet and sent her hurtling into the forest. She and Jasper both crashed into trees as they were uprooted and sent spinning, and though she couldn't see them, she assumed the others were in the same state. At one point, she saw the car they'd stolen go spinning past them in the dark, rushing water…and then, almost as quickly as it had appeared, the water receded, and Alice and Jasper were sitting on a rocky outcropping that the wave had dropped them on, laughing and kissing and trying in vain to dry off.

"We should probably take our clothes off, so they can...dry," Jasper suggested with a grin, and Alice laughed.

"Please don't," Edward called—Alice couldn't see him, but he was clearly concealed somewhere on the hill above them. "Or at least wait until I'm out of earshot."

"Carlisle and Esme just had the same idea, so watch out for them too!" Alice said, and she and Jasper both laughed as they heard Edward take off running.

"I'll see you at dawn then—fully dressed, please!" he shouted.

Alice grinned and turned back to Jasper. "And you thought my recent interest in meteorology odd."

"Yes, but now I can definitely see the appeal," Jasper said. "That was…extremely impressive."

"When you know where to look, the weather is anything but boring," Alice declared, and then she kissed him, silently agreeing that they might as well get out of their wet clothes for a while, at least until the sun rose…


	236. Camping

Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update, but the past two nights, I just couldn't quite get this edited before I needed to go to bed. This week's chapter shows how Carlisle and Esme might enjoy a camping trip with humans. (As someone who can remember going camping in 1997, I can say with some certainty that a Gameboy was essential to survival.) Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :) Also, Happy 4th of July! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 135 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 2! :)

_1997_: Camping

Carlisle's POV

It was almost time to move to a new town, and thus a new hospital, so Carlisle informed the head of surgery that he'd received an offer for a new job. This wasn't precisely true, but the head of surgery didn't need to know that. Carlisle's superiors and co-workers said they'd be sad to see him go, but the Cullens had been in the same town for almost five years, and it was time to move on.

Edward wanted to go to college again, Rosalie and Emmett were planning another wedding, and Jasper and Alice wanted to do some traveling together. The family would be splitting up for a while, and while each couple was looking forward to more privacy (Edward, of course, was looking forward to not having to avoid couples looking for privacy), Carlisle knew that he and Esme were going to miss living in a home crowded with their children. It was this thought that led Carlisle to ask Alice for advice about something he was hoping to do with Esme.

"Ever year, people from the hospital like to go on a camping trip together," he explained, sitting in his office while Alice perched on his desk. "Since this is my last summer working here, I think it might be fun to go, if only for the sake of novelty. But I wondered if it would be safe, weather-wise, and if any of you would be interested in going if Esme and I do."

Alice frowned thoughtfully."Most of us are going to be busy that weekend. Let's see, I'm going to be at art camp, Jasper and the boys were planning to go on an extended hunting trip, and Rosalie…actually, she might go. For a while, she was planning to go shopping in Madison, but now she's thinking about just hanging around and working on her car that weekend. She might like the idea of going camping with you guys though."

"Really?" Carlisle said, slightly skeptical.

Alice smiled. "You know that Rosalie never turns down a chance to play the part of a sullen teenager."

So, the week before Carlisle's last day at the hospital, he, Esme, and Rosalie took the jeep and joined some other hospital staff on their annual camping trip. Alice, as was usually the case, had been exactly right: though Rosalie scowled a lot and pretended to be bored to death, it was clear that she was really quite pleased to be doing something she considered "normal." Being bored on a family vacation was apparently an activity that Rosalie thought of as a human rite of passage, and as such, she made a point of only smiling when there were no humans around. If there were teenage humans present though, either around the communal campfire or during a nature hike that cloudy weekend, then Rosalie made a point of out angst-ing them all.

Carlisle and Esme had been camping before, and as always, they derived a great deal of private amusement from the strangeness of such an activity. After retiring to their tent one night (Rosalie had her own, where she kept a boombox, stacks of magazines, an unnecessarily large quantity of clothing, and a Gameboy she'd borrowed from Emmett), Carlisle and Esme lay in the darkness, listening to the humans still sitting around the communal fire pit talking and making s'mores. It was raining lightly, as it had been for most of the weekend, which was why they'd been able to come, and Carlisle thought it was wonderfully cozy, laying down and listening to rain falling on the canvas above them. However, it certainly underscored the essential oddness of camping.

As if she were having the same thought, Esme suddenly said, "I will never completely understand this concept. Why would humans with comfortable homes and roofs over their heads choose to sleep outside in tents in the rain? I suppose I understand the idea of wanting to get outdoors and enjoy nature, but really, why not draw the line at a day trip? Taking a hike in the woods when the weather's nice makes sense to me. Sleeping on the ground does not."

"Compared to some of the other things that humans supposedly consider fun, this seems perfectly logical to me," Carlisle said with a chuckle. "Disco was stranger than this, sitting through most TV shows seems weirder than this, and most of the fashions of this decade are far more inexplicable to me than the concept of camping."

Esme laughed. "If she were here, I think Alice would tell you that fashion is about more than fun; it's about being stylish, which I'm told is very important. And I suppose if I were human, I'd prefer this to watching most of what's on TV. I just think it must get uncomfortable for them, sleeping on the ground."

"Oh, absolutely," Carlisle agreed. "Ancient humans were built for this sort of living, but they've evolved to the point now where they aren't quite as hale and hearty as their ancestors were. Though I suppose it may be more of a psychosomatic reaction than an actual evolutionary _need_ for a bed, I think most humans, or most Americans at least, do prefer a mattress. Or at least some form of sleeping space where there aren't insects or rain showers to avoid."

Esme laughed again. "That was a very scientific-sounding explanation of the issue, Dr. Cullen. I'm sure your colleagues out there would love to hear it too. Shall we go enlighten them?"

"I think we'd do better to stay in here where it's warm and not so damp," Carlisle said with a grin, wrapping his arms around her. "You could catch your death of cold in this rain."

"I think that very unlikely," Esme said drily. "Anyway, we're going to have to go outside tonight, if we want any real privacy. Rosalie won't appreciate us getting too cozy in here, with her only a few feet away."

"That's right!" Rosalie hissed from the next tent. "So either keep your hands to yourselves or go have fun in the woods. I'll just stay here, acting crabby and making your cover story about having a moody teenage daughter seem more believable."

Carlisle and Esme both laughed as they quietly unzipped their tent and stepped outside. "Thank you, Rose," Esme whispered.

"Goodnight," she said, and as Carlisle and Esme crept away from the campground and into the forest, they could hear the Gameboy emitting odd pings and other noises as Rosalie, in true sullen teenage fashion, played video games in lieu of sleeping. Or at least, that was what any human who heard the sounds or saw the light from her tent would think.

The place where they were camping was called Mirror Lake State Park. Carlisle and Esme strolled down to the titular lake, where they sat under a tree for a while, kissing and then doing other things that they were glad no one was around to overhear, Rosalie in particular. Then, since their clothes were ruined anyway, they took a swim, enjoying the warm water as lightening flashed overhead and thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Maybe, if I were human, I'd be heartier than I think, but during a summer storm like this, I imagine I'd much rather be at home in bed than in a tent with metal poles supporting it," Esme said, floating on her back.

Carlisle, floating beside her, chuckled. "Are you having fun?"

"Absolutely," she said, turning and smiling at him. "I assume that this is a sort of preview of the kinds of silly and wonderful things we might do more often, when it's just the two of us."

Carlisle smiled. "Well, on future trips, since we won't be traveling with any humans, we won't have to pretend to eat, or make small talk around a fire every day. I suppose I thought that a trip like this might be fun, for novelty's sake, but also so our future travels will seem that much more enjoyable by comparison."

"Maybe _that's_ why humans go camping!" Esme said suddenly. "They're uncomfortable at the time, certainly, but a trip like this must make their homes seem even better by comparison. And I'm sure, when the people we're with this weekend look back on this, they won't remember the rainy weather so much as how much they enjoyed spending time with family and friends. That's something I remember about being human: to me, things always seemed better in retrospect than they did at the time they happened."

Carlisle laughed. "Perhaps you're right. That sounds logical to me."

He was sorry that he and Esme would never have to face their children moving out for real—that Rosalie had to accept pretend rites of passage instead of real ones—that their lives would never move forward in the way it did for the humans back at camp, asleep in their tents or still struggling to get comfortable on the uneven ground. But Carlisle was more grateful than he could say to have innumerable chances to be with Esme like this. His past, present, and future all seemed equally blessed, simply because she was with him now, splashing and laughing and swimming in the darkness.


	237. Modern

Hi everyone! This week's chapter is a reader request; someone wondered what it must have been like the first time Esme wore a bikini. (I see Esme as being the sort of person who might over-think a fashion statement like that. :)) By 1955, the so-called "modern" bikini had actually been around for several years, but I think that it might have taken Alice until 1955 to introduce her new mother and sister to that particular fashion trend, which was still considered a bit risqué back then, especially (I'd guess) by people born when Esme was. :)

Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again in two weeks. (Sorry to take a week off, but I've got guests coming again, which usually means no fic is going to get done.) Have a great week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 130 days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 2! (Yeah, I need to remember to take some vacation time the day after the movie so I can sleep in…:))

_1955_: Modern

Esme's POV

"Alice, this is ridiculous," Esme said, staring at the two pieces of fabric that she was, for lack of a better term, wearing, though the outfit didn't cover much.

"I like it," Rosalie declared, admiring her reflection—she, Esme, and Alice were dressed alike, but their feelings about their attire clearly varied. "Though I'm sure that at this very moment, somewhere, my mother is angry and she doesn't know why. She could always sense it somehow, when I'd done something to upset her."

"Yes, and I'm fairly certain that as we speak, _my_ mother is rolling over in her grave," Esme murmured, considering the bikini she was wearing. They were the latest thing, according to Alice, and Alice was the authority on cutting edge (and sometimes positively inexplicable) fashions. "Of course, this isn't the first time I've given her cause to do that..."

_It's not so bad, really_, Esme thought, frowning at herself in the mirror. _No, actually it is._

"You realize that I was born in the nineteenth century, Alice," Esme said, giving her younger daughter a look. "I'm not shocked by this because I'm a prude. I'm shocked because it's hard to go from corsets to _this_ in just six decades."

"Well, I think it's very flattering," Alice said loftily. "And I know that Carlisle will like it too."

"Every man in the world is going to enjoy the bikini, Alice," Rosalie said, rolling her eyes. "At least, they will when they see me in one. Poor Emmett won't know what hit him."

"It certainly doesn't leave much to the imagination," Esme said, frowning again. "I wonder what exactly was the motivation behind this design. Shock value? Exhibitionism?"

"As an artist, I think that you should try to look at this particular piece without any preconceived notions," Alice said with a grin. "Don't ascribe motives to the bikini without knowing where its creator was coming from, and don't judge it on the basis of Rosalie's planning to use its power for her own devious designs. What do _you_ think it means?"

"I think it's a clever money-making idea, if nothing else," Esme said with a smile. "Charging more money for a bathing suit that's made from less fabric is certainly…innovative. And it is rather flattering, but then, so is lingerie, and I wouldn't wear that to the beach."

"Esme, I think that once you try swimming in it, you'll actually like it," Alice said pragmatically. "Think about all the times you've torn bathing suits by swimming too fast or getting them caught on rocks, or…you know."

"Or when your husband removes them too quickly," Rosalie suggested, trying to sound innocent.

"Rose," Esme said, shooting her the stern mother look she'd developed over the past two decades. Referring to Carlisle as "your husband" had been a quirk of hers lately. It was, Esme guessed, Rosalie's idea of being slightly more civil to Carlisle than she had been in the past, and though the effort was better than nothing, Esme didn't really appreciate it. Still, she couldn't exactly argue with the bathing suit destruction remark—it was true.

"What?" Rosalie said. "I have that problem sometimes too."

"Esme, this bathing suit is made of less fabric, so logically, it should be harder to tear, because there's less of it. See, you won't go through bathing suits so fast this way. It's efficient, and fiscally responsible too."

"_Or_ you and your husband could just skinny dip the way Emmett and I usually do," Rosalie suggested with a smile. "That would save even more money that we don't need to spend on cute but unnecessary bathing suits."

"Unnecessary but _very_ cute," Alice said firmly. "Please, Esme? Just try it for today and see what you think."

Esme, with some misgivings about the logic and ramifications of the bikini, agreed to try it. It was a warm, rainy day, so the three couples in the family were all planning trips to separate beaches in the area; Emmett and Rosalie drove north, Alice and Jasper headed east, so Esme and Carlisle went south, where they found themselves alone on the beach they'd chosen. Carlisle was telling her about how this beach had looked when he'd stumbled upon it decades ago, during an eventually successful attempt to bring down a cougar, but he stopped talking and seemed to abruptly lose his train of thought when Esme pulled off her sweater and revealed the bikini top underneath.

"So," Esme said, grinning at Carlisle's appreciative expression. "I take it you like my new bathing suit."

"It's…yes, I do like it," Carlisle stammered, staring at her and smiling when she laughed at him. "I mean, it's very…daring. And attractive. I mean, you are, wearing it."

"The girls and I agreed that you'd probably feel that way," Esme said with a smile. "You don't think it's too revealing?"

"No," Carlisle said quickly, shaking his head and still smiling. "If I seem surprised, it's just because…well, it's for the same reason I'm guessing that you were a little startled when Alice first presented you with this bathing suit. Sometimes, it can be a little hard to forget how long ago I was born, and what a different world that was. Of course, in the seventeenth century, bathing costumes in general would have been condemned. How are your nineteenth century sensibilities dealing with this?"

"I can't stop imagining my mother's expression, if she could see me dressed this way," Esme admitted, and they both laughed. "But, I do rather like it. I'm not worried about tearing anything, should I move too fast, or if we get…overenthusiastic."

"Shall we go take a swim before enthusiasm gets the best of us?" Carlisle suggested, wrapping his arms around her.

Esme grinned. "Well, one thing I do like about the bikini is that I think we can remove it without destroying it. As far as I'm concerned, that's the best thing about this particular example of a modern idea."

"In that case, consider me supportive of modern fashion," Carlisle said, kissing her as he reached behind her to remove her top. Esme sighed against his mouth; neither of them was very modern really, when it came to their mindsets about certain 20th century developments, but that was all right. In cases like this, they could always find a way to enjoy modern conveniences together…


	238. Legend

Hi everyone! Sorry for missing last week, but I was traveling again, and the break allowed me to finish another chapter of "Stregoni Benefici, Unico," which I'll hopefully get edited soon, plus a couple of other things that I've been meaning to finally type. This week's chapter was inspired by the novel "Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter" by Seth Grahame-Smith. I read this back when it first came out, and the recent movie (which wasn't as good as the book IMHO, but it was a fun action movie) made me think of what Carlisle and Jasper, the only Cullens alive during the Civil War, might think of such a novel. :) (That led me to the idea of Jasper remembering a story about vampires that he'd heard during the war which might, to his amusement, have actually involved Carlisle…) Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! (And I mean it this time. :))

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 109 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 2! All the pictures I've been seeing of the various new vampires are so pretty…

_2009_: Legend

Jasper's POV

After he'd finished reading "Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter," Jasper went to Carlisle's office and told him to read it.

"Trust me," Jasper said, chuckling. "You'll be entertained."

And his father was entertained—Jasper could sense that easily enough, and he actually heard Carlisle laughing out loud later that day. Since he had the day off from work, Esme was away on an antiquing trip, and the day was sunny, which kept everyone inside, Carlisle was able to spend the entire afternoon reading. That night, they talked about the book after Carlisle had finished it.

"As a vampire who was actually involved in the Civil War, I have to say that at times, I was a bit offended," Carlisle said with a smile. "But of course, during my time as an army medic, I certainly told my share of tall tales around campfires. Men did tell stories about vampires from time to time like the ones in this book, though the creatures men described weren't always called vampires."

"'Vampire' was usually synonymous with 'demon,'" Jasper said, nodding. "It always amused me, hearing stories intended to frighten an audience in the middle of a battlefield."

Carlisle shrugged. "I guess that tales about monsters and demons have always been popular in war zones—better to dwell on imaginary terrors than the real ones all around you."

"That was my experience," Jasper agreed, still amused as he remembered the novel. "If anyone had told me that the Confederacy was under the thumb of a vampire conspiracy when I was human, I probably would have laughed, then told an even taller tale."

"I liked how otherwise historically accurate the book was though," Carlisle said. "I'm not sure what Abe Lincoln himself would have thought of it, but it's certainly entertaining, and even moderately educational."

"In years past, I think the Volturi might have paid a visit to this author," Jasper said, "either to scare him or silence him, what with the presence of warring vampires in this book, and the fact that they aren't harmed by the sun."

Carlisle nodded. "If they even know this book exists, I suspect they feel that they have more pressing concerns now than novels which happen to stray a bit too close to the truth."

"Still, the idea of good vampires fighting bad ones," Jasper mused. "You'd think they'd worry about that, in light of recent events."

"Maybe they'll get to it after they've investigated the matter of half-immortals to their satisfaction," Carlisle said. "I suppose I'd almost prefer that they waste their time on frivolous things like this than worry too much about half-vampire children."

Jasper nodded thoughtfully. They both sat in silence for a few moments, probably thinking of the fight that would result if the Volturi ever came looking for Nessie again...

"You know, this book reminded me of something," Jasper said at last. "I heard a story in the South once, about a group of demons fighting each other. When I was human, I seem to remember it giving me nightmares, but after I was changed, I knew that if anything, the story I'd heard wasn't as violent as a real fight between vampires is."

Carlisle shifted slightly in his seat. "Do you remember where that story took place?"

"Somewhere out east, I heard, in Northern territory," Jasper said with a small smile.

"I think I know which one you mean. As I recall," Carlisle said slowly, "the vampires in that story were arguing over who should be the one to drink the blood of a human girl they'd captured. All of them had drunk their fill from soldiers and some townspeople already, but the girl was very lovely, and the vampires thought that they might turn her. The trouble was, they couldn't decide who she should belong to if they went through with their plan.

The strongest vampire in the group said that the girl should be his, because he'd killed all the humans who'd been protecting her. The fastest in the group said that she should be his, because he was the one who'd actually caught her, and he was both strong enough and fast enough to catch her if she should try to escape as a newborn. The third vampire, who thought of himself as the cleverest, told the other two that the best solution to the problem was to draw lots. So, the other two agreed, and the result was that the third vampire won.

A fourth vampire, who'd been watching the other three argue, said that the clever vampire must have cheated. The first two agreed, so they tore him apart and set him on fire. Then the strong vampire decided that he was going to kill the quick vampire, then take the girl for himself. The quick one ran, of course, and the strong one couldn't catch him, and while they were gone, the fourth vampire carried the girl to a new town, and let her go."

Jasper smiled. "The way I heard it, a lot more vampires were killed in that battle before the four were left, and I never heard about the fourth vampire letting the girl go. People said that he was really the cleverest demon, because he made the third look like a liar. He knew that would make the other two either run off or kill each other. That made him the strongest demon as well, because he tricked all the others, so he won the girl. It was sort of a story with the opposite of a moral at the end of it—the hero, as it were, isn't supposed to be a hero at all."

Carlisle shrugged. "I suppose that's true, if the fourth vampire had really 'won' the girl."

"Well, he wouldn't seem like a very frightening demon if he was rescuing damsels in distress," Jasper said with a grin. "It's not a good ghost story if it has a happy ending."

Carlisle smiled. "I suppose you're right."

"And of course, this story's just a legend anyway," Jasper said, hearing Alice, apparently home from her volunteer job, moving down the hall. "You were probably far from wherever it took place whenever it supposedly happened, right?"

"Probably," Carlisle acknowledged, his expression thoughtful. It was ironic, Jasper thought, that though Carlisle had been a medic during the war, never a soldier or an officer, he'd seen a great deal more fighting that Jasper had as a human cavalry officer. And Jasper was now certain that not all of the battles he'd witnessed had been between humans.

"Hey," Alice said, poking her heard into the office. "I came to borrow that book you told me about, Jazz. Are you finished with it, Carlisle?"

"Yes," he said, handing it to her. "Jasper and I were just discussing it."

"And another story it reminded me of," Jasper said, slipping his arm around Alice with a grin. He sometimes wondered if he'd ever be able to properly decipher just how much of history was legend and how much was fact…and how many other improbable tales that Carlisle, in his long life, might have played a role in. Even Carlisle himself probably didn't know how many times he'd been involved in something that had turned into a story, or that such stories would be whispered around campfires long after all mortal participants in such tales had been lost to memory.


	239. Antiques

Happy Sunday, everyone! This week's chapter is a cute mother/daughter scene between Esme and Rosalie; I think that, for both of them, being given things from their human lives would inspire a similar mixture of happy, sad, and thoughtful feelings. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday! (Next week, I'll have a fun one starring Carlisle and Esme, as well as a few of Carlisle's coworkers. :))

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't wait to get the "New Moon" graphic novel. (I think I'm actually more excited about that than "Breaking Dawn" Part 2, which should be pretty epic, but since it's the last movie, it's going to make me rather sad too…)

_1985_: Antiques

Rosalie's POV

Her 70th birthday having come and gone without much incident, aside from the usual thoughtful gifts from her parents and siblings and rather more…personal gifts from Emmett, Rosalie found herself wanting some time alone. She was sitting in the shade of an umbrella on the deck of the family's Ontario vacation house, watching birds wheel above the lake, kids splashing in the water on the other side of the bay, and the sun slowly moving across the cloudless blue sky. It was what some might have called a perfect day, and Rosalie was feeling perfectly wretched.

It hadn't been a bad birthday by any means. Everyone had seemed to understand that for someone who would never age, turning seventy was unnerving on good days and downright depressing on bad ones, or at least that was Rosalie's experience. After all, she would have loved to have celebrated her 70th birthday as an old woman, with Emmett an old man, their children and grandchildren all around them. It wasn't that Rosalie wanted to grow frail and tired and withered with age—she only wanted to change as the years passed, and sometimes the desperate desire for what she could never have made Rosalie so miserable that all she wanted was to be alone, so she could mourn in peace for the live she'd lost. Today though, after several hours of solitude, Rosalie only felt more irritated than she had before.

"You know, Alice says it's going to rain tomorrow," Esme said, appearing behind her on the deck and carefully keeping to the shadows provided by the awning, "so we won't have to put up with this weather for much longer."

"Lovely," Rosalie said drily. "Then my bad mood won't have to be confined to the shade."

Esme chuckled gently and sat down in the chair beside Rosalie's. In her hands was a large box that she placed on the table. "You could always go inside and let Emmett cheer you up—you both usually enjoy that. The rest of us could go to a movie this evening."

"Not today," Rosalie muttered, closing her eyes. "Maybe it sounds childish, but I can think of nothing better to do today than to savor my current bad mood."

"Well, then I guess I'll just save this belated birthday present until tomorrow then," Esme said, but she made no move to get up or remove the box from the table.

Rosalie smiled slowly: she had a weakness for presents. Like compliments, she might behave as though she didn't need them, but really, she relished such attention, particularly from Esme, whose words were always sincere, and whose gifts were invariably well-chosen. "What is it?"

"I think that it should go without saying that you'll have to open it and see," Esme said, her smile serene but somehow eager too. Rosalie finally sat up then—she'd been slouching in her chair, doing her best imitation of a sullen human teen, but now she leaned forward and pulled the box toward her. Esme had wrapped it in silver paper and tied it with a matching bow, and when Rosalie picked it up, it was heavier than she might have guessed. Tearing off the paper slowly, as if she wasn't really that eager to see what the box contained, Rosalie set the bow aside, folded the wrapping paper with unnecessary care, and only then did she lift the lid. Then she dropped it, shocked, her eyes widening as a familiar, long absent smell hit her nose.

"This is—" Rosalie stammered, surprised to find herself speechless, but even more surprised by what Esme had given her. "It's—my mother's china. Where did you find it?"

"Alice had a vision of it sitting in a shop a few days ago and me going to buy it, so I made a quick run down to New York and bought every piece they had," Esme said with a smile. "I'm afraid a few saucers are missing, but I think that everything else is there."

Rosalie shook her head, amazed. "I never thought I'd see these things again. Whoever inherited them from my mother must have sold them, or given them away…they smell just like her perfume..."

"It's a beautiful set," Esme said. "Whoever painted these did a wonderful job."

"She was a local artist, an old woman named Lola," Rosalie breathed, picking up a china cup and willing herself to be gentle with it in spite of her excitement. "She was going to paint a set for me as well, for when Royce and I got married. I'd already picked out what flowers I wanted for the design when I…died."

It was so strange, trying to imagine her mother picking out the flowers for this set before her own marriage. She wondered, as she often did, how her mother's life had changed after the apparent death of her daughter. How had she and Rosalie's father moved on? What had her brothers made of her disappearance, and where were they now? Did they have children and grandchildren to attend their birthday parties as their hair grew gray? It was painful to consider such things, but Rosalie never wanted to forget her first family; more than anything else, thinking of them helped her to remember what it was like to be human, and as much as she envied them, she was happy for her family too. At least they hadn't lost the things she had.

"Thank you, Esme," Rosalie said softly.

Esme stood up and kissed her on the cheek. "You're welcome. I remember what it felt like, when Carlisle found some old photos of my family at a swap meet once. And I know what it's like to turn seventy and wish that you could look and feel as old as you are. So, don't let your bad mood fester for too long—I think you'd have more fun coming inside and setting up those dishes instead."

Rosalie smiled, though she was fighting the urge to cry. Of course Esme was right—the two of them had wanted similar things from life, things they would never have now. But Esme would be a century old soon, and she didn't mope about what she'd lost. (Or if she did, she was very inconspicuous about it.) Rosalie guessed that her immortal mother would always find a way to enjoy life, and savor love, and make her family happy, and though it wasn't something that Rosalie thought she could imitate, Esme's demeanor was certainly something to admire.

She knew that she could never be Esme's equal in optimism and cheerfulness, but hers was certainly an example to aspire to when it came to a determination to find happiness where she could, in spite of her circumstances. Rosalie decided then that she _would_ go inside and set up the dishes; maybe she'd get Emmett to help, and later...well. Smiling as she thought of some of the more risqué gifts that Emmett had given her (trying those out would _surely_ cheer her up), Rosalie picked up the box of china, after carefully returning the cup to a cocoon of wrapped newspaper. Then she went back inside just as the sun was setting.


	240. Gossip

Happy Sunday, everyone! For the next three chapters, I'm going to try something a little bit different than my usual thing: this chapter, and the two that follow it, are all going to be connected. They'll all take place around the same time (the summer between Edward and Bella's junior and senior year, which is always a time period I have fun playing with, since we know so little about it), and they'll all deal with the same mystery that I introduce in this chapter. Usually, I'll write a chapter, people will say they liked it, and then later, I might do a sequel, but I liked the idea of planning ahead and doing three interconnected chapters in order for once. So, please let me know what you think of this approach, thanks as always for all your encouraging reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and though I'm excited for "Breaking Dawn" Part 2, I'm maybe more excited for the soundtrack! (I mean, the last four have all been awesome, so odds are this one will be too. :))

_2005_: Gossip

Carlisle's POV

It had begun at the end of the school year. The first Sunday it happened, most people thought that it was some sort of prank, or a strange advertising tactic. What started it all was a letter, published in the editorials section of the newspaper:

_I have $1000 that I want to give away this week. Please write to me at the following P.O. Box and tell me what you want or need for yourself or for a friend. I'll do my best to deliver it to you!_

_ Yours truly,_

_ A friend_

But after that first Sunday, it soon became clear that something unusual was going on in Forks. Apparently, some people wrote letters and actually sent them to the P.O. Box address. Though not everyone who did so got whatever it was they'd asked for, a number of people did.

A girl whose bike had been stolen received a new one after she wrote her letter. A couple that needed new tires for their car woke up one day to find four new tires sitting in their garage. A family whose house had been damaged by a fire were given replacements for the clothes, furniture, and children's toys they'd lost. No one ever seemed to see the items being delivered; people would simply go to bed one night, and the next morning, what they'd asked for would be waiting on their doorstep, in their mailbox, on their porch, or somewhere similar. On and on it went, until it seemed that everyone knew someone who had been helped by the anonymous benefactor.

Every week, all summer long, similar stories circulated throughout town as people in Forks, after reading the paper on Sunday, woke on Monday to find that the item they'd written to the P.O. Box to request had been delivered. Some things were necessities, like home repair supplies, car parts, new clothes for children, and sometimes groceries. Other items requested were gifts: a man wrote in asking for Mariners tickets for a friend's birthday; a woman requested party supplies for her sister's baby shower; another man asked for a new computer for his granddaughter, who was going away to college. All of these things, and many others, were delivered to people in Forks and the surrounding communities, yet still no one knew who was behind the bizarre arrangement.

By the beginning of August, the initial excitement surrounding the mysterious gift giver had died down somewhat, largely because most people had already decided who was behind the whole thing. Most people seemed to think that someone in town must have won the lottery, and they'd decided to use their winnings to help people. Others thought that someone had inherited money, or maybe someone didn't want their children to inherit their money, so they were spending it this way instead. And of course, a few people joked that Dr. and Mrs. Cullen were behind the P.O. Box. Carlisle, who was used to more negative forms of gossip surrounding his family, was amused by the attention, and though he always told people that he knew nothing about the matter whenever he was asked directly, the few humans who knew him well—nurses and other doctors at the hospital—still seemed to enjoy bringing it up at work.

"Did I hear that you bought someone a new air conditioner this weekend, Dr. Cullen?" one of the nurses, Cathy, said to him while he pretended to sip at a cup of coffee in the hospital kitchen. "That was nice of you."

"Like I tell you every Monday, Cathy, the generous person in question isn't me. But you're right, the whole thing is very nice, to say the least."

"If it isn't you, then it's your wife giving away all these things," Diane, an older nurse said sagely. "I think it's very nice of both of you, doing this for people."

"I know you two are only kidding," Carlisle said with a smile, "but I do wonder who really is behind it. It's an impressive gesture, but where is it coming from?"

"Well, until someone else confesses, you and your wife are the most likely suspects that I can think of," Diane pointed out. "That's why we keep teasing you about it."

Dr. Streucker came in then, also looking for coffee.

"I'm not teasing," Cathy said firmly. "Who else could it be but you? What's that thing called? Occam's razor? Usually, the most simple solution is the correct one."

"Did that mysterious gift giver strike again?" Dr. Streucker asked, adjusting one of her earrings and smiling. "Cathy, I keep telling you, I really don't think it's Dr. Cullen. If it was, why would he keep denying it?"

"Because he wants to keep it a secret, obviously," Cathy said. "It's more fun to maintain the mystery, isn't it?"

"I'm going to plead the fifth here, since anything I say will just convince you that I really am behind this," Carlisle said, discreetly dumping his coffee down the sink.

"If life were a mystery novel or TV show, then Dr. Cullen would be the red herring," Dr. Streucker said confidently. "On 'Law and Order,' the most likely suspect almost never turns out to be guilty. It's always someone unexpected."

"But in real life, the most likely suspect usually _is_ guilty," Cathy countered. "It's a good thing you're a surgeon and not a detective, Dr. Streucker."

Carlisle discreetly exited the kitchen then, waving to Dr. Streucker in thanks for helping him to escape the conversation. He encountered similar jokes for the rest of the day, but really, it was a pleasant novelty, having people talk to him simply because they wanted to. It wasn't that his coworkers were frightened of him ordinarily, but as practiced as he was at appearing human, people didn't usually talk to him voluntarily, beyond exchanging polite greetings, so it was an unexpected treat, having people actually teasing him about something. When he got home that night and told Esme about the day's gossip, she was amused but unsurprised.

"Two women at the post office today were whispering about the same theory," she said, rolling her eyes at the memory as she took off her shoes. "I can't say that I really mind though. This is much better than the kind of gossip we usually hear about us. Like the time we lived in Trenton just long enough for people to decide that we were members of a cult."

"Or when the town gossips in Houghton had it on good authority that we were performing animal sacrifices in our basement," Carlisle said, nodding as he undid his tie. "You're right, gossip here in Forks is some of the most complimentary I've ever heard. I suppose Chief Swan helps with that—he's always stuck up for us, and I think he still does, in spite of his suspicions regarding Edward. Having a prominent figure as a friend of the family has made us all seem more approachable."

"People seeing Edward with Bella helps us too, I think," Esme agreed, pulling off her skirt and smoothing away some barely visible wrinkles before hanging it up. "It's made people in town more comfortable talking to, or at least about, all of us. Do you think it's too much attention though?"

Carlisle shrugged, slipping off his shirt. "From what I hear, the most popular theory is that someone won the lottery or otherwise came into some money unexpectedly, and that this is how they're spending it. We're a distant third on the list of probable explanations for this P.O. Box good samaritan. Still, I wonder…"

"I've already asked Alice, and she insists that she isn't behind this," Esme said with a smile, heading toward the bathroom to run a bath for both of them. "And Edward says that though she's hiding something about it, he doesn't think she's the mastermind. Probably, she's seen who the culprit is, but she's hiding it from him."

"She does enjoy knowing things he doesn't," Carlisle murmured, joining Esme in the bathroom. "Ah, well. She rarely has the chance to keep secrets from him, so as long as the gossip about us doesn't get too well-circulated, I see no reason to intervene. Someone today pointed out how much fun it can be, maintaining a mystery."

Esme grinned at him. They were both completely undressed now, and as the bathtub slowly filled with water, she pulled Carlisle down for a kiss. "What's a mystery to me at the moment is why we're still talking."

Carlisle kissed her back and lifted her into the tub. "You're absolutely right. We can compare notes on local gossip later." And perhaps they would, _much_ later in the evening.


	241. Celebrity

Hi everyone! I'm really glad that people seemed to enjoy the first chapter in this three chapter arc; I'll definitely plan on doing something like this again in the future. For now though, here's chapter two—you'll have to wait until next week to find out who's behind the P.O. Box. :) This week, Bella has an unusual problem to take care of, and Carlisle lends a hand. Next week, Esme's going to solve the mystery, so thanks as always for your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday for the denouement! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't wait to read the "New Moon" graphic novel! (Seriously, there are so many books coming out this fall that I'm excited about, but that one's close to the top of the list. :))

_2005_: Celebrity

Bella's POV

It was a cool summer morning, and since I'd gotten blueberries at the store the previous day, I'd just made pancakes for me and Charlie. (They kind of make a mess, but pancakes are always worth it.) I was just starting on the dishes when Charlie said goodbye, stepped out the front door, then cursed.

"What is it?" I called, looking toward the door and frowning—Charlie doesn't swear much, so when he does, it's usually for a good reason. Charlie returned to the kitchen a few seconds later carrying a cardboard box. His expression was hard to read. I couldn't decide if he looked more annoyed or apologetic.

"Umm," he said, setting the cardboard box down on the chair I thought of as Edward's. "Yeah, I need to get to work, so could you…take care of this? Maybe you and Edward can—"

"Wait, what is it?" I said. If Charlie was actually suggesting that Edward help me deal with the contents of that box, then whatever it held was probably something bad. Pulling up the flaps of the box, I looked inside: there were six kittens curled up on a towel, and though I am not a pet person or even a cute animal person ordinarily, I "awwed" helplessly at how cute they were, then grinned like a little kid when they looked up at me and starting mewing.

"Yeah," Charlie said, clearly unnerved by my reaction—hey, just because I don't usually gravitate toward cuteness doesn't mean I'm immune to it. "So, good luck."

"Wait, why did someone leave kittens on our doorstep?" I demanded.

"Hell if I know," Charlie said with a sigh. "People drop off stray animals here sometimes, knowing who I am—last year, someone left a puppy in a box like this, but I've never had this many at once before. Usually, I just take whatever it is over to animal control or the animal shelter."

"I'm still confused though," I said, watching Charlie edge toward the door again. "What should I do about this?"

"You could call your friends, see if any of them are looking for a pet," Charlie shrugged. "Or just take them to the animal shelter. Sorry, but I don't have time to take care of these guys today. I've gotta drive down to Kitsap County about a missing person. "

"It's okay," I said with a sigh. Of course, inviting Edward over was out of the question—the kittens would panic the instant they smelled him. We'd learned from experience that if he got within smelling distance of any animal, chaos would ensue. I was just grateful that neither of Charlie's closest neighbors owned dogs. Then I looked at the kittens again and smiled. "I don't have to work today, so I'll call Angela and Jessica, see if they know anyone who's looking for a kitten."

"Okay," Charlie said, clearly eager to escape before I could change my mind. "Thanks, Bells. See you tonight."

As soon as Charlie left, I called Edward and told him that our plans for the day would have to wait, then I described the kittens to him. In the background, I could hear Emmett talking.

"What did Emmett just say?" I asked, not sure that I really wanted to know.

"Nothing,' Edward said smoothly, which made me confident that Emmett had said something gross or disturbing. "Good luck with your kitten problem, love. I hope Jessica and Angela can help."

"Even if I have to take them to the animal shelter, it won't be so bad," I said, though even I didn't think I sounded very convincing. Just because I don't _love_ animals doesn't mean that I didn't want to help the poor things, and if I could, I'd rather find them good homes than make them the animal shelter's problem.

I said goodbye to Edward then, and almost immediately, my phone buzzed—I had a text.

_6 kittens = vampire six pack_

I made a face and texted Emmett back.

_Eww!_

Then I called Jessica and Angela. Surprisingly, they were both free and awake, though it was just after nine in the morning on a summer morning when, I guessed, most teenagers would still be sleeping. I'd always thought my habit of getting up early even in the summer was a little odd, but maybe it wasn't as uncommon as I'd thought.

"My little brothers never let me sleep in," Angela said when I asked her if she usually slept in. She and Jessica had ridden together, and they'd both hurried inside moments before to avoid the light drizzle that was rapidly turning to actual rain.

"Yeah, and my mom's been waking me up at eight every morning this week," Jessica said, scowling. "She says that that way, going back to school won't be so hard to get used to. I'm glad you called—she was going to make me help her wash windows today."

While I wondered why anyone would even bother washing windows in perpetually rainy Forks, I opened the box and let the kittens out. Angela and Jessica both squealed with delight just like I had—maybe humans are just hard-wired to react to cute animals like that, or teenage girl humans anyway.

"Aww, they're so cute!" Jessica cried, picking up one in each hand. They mewed and nibbled at her fingers while Angela held one in her arms.

"Where did they come from?" Angela wondered, hugging the kitten and grinning as it purred louder.

"Someone left them on our doorstep," I said. "My dad says it happens every once in a while, because people know who he is and they figure he'll take care of it. Are either of you guys looking for a pet?"

"We've already got a dog," Jessica said reluctantly. "Rusty would probably try to eat these little guys if he saw them."

Angela bit her lip. "Sorry, but my mom and my brothers are all allergic."

I sighed, not really surprised. "That's okay. Do you guys know anyone who's looking for a kitten?"

"Hey, why not write to that address in the newspaper?" Jessica said. "You know, the person who keeps giving away free stuff. You could give them to that person, and they could give these guys away. You know, I wrote and asked for a new car—didn't happen."

"Jess, doesn't whoever it is only give away a thousand dollars worth of stuff every week?" Angela wondered. "Would you really want a car that only cost that much? I mean, I don't think it would run for very long."

Just then, my phone rang. While Jessica and Angela talked about stuff they'd heard that people had received from that P.O. Box gift giving thing, I answered.

"Hello?"

"Bella," Carlisle said. "Edward called me and told me about the surprise that was left on your doorstep this morning."

"Oh—hi!" I said, still shocked at times that I knew someone who was over three hundred years old, and that he had my cell phone number. "Do you work with someone who's looking for a kitten?"

"Well, I'm afraid I have to request a specific color of kitten," Carlisle said with a chuckle. "A nurse has been looking for a white kitten for her daughter's birthday, since apparently her favorite picture book is about a white kitten."

"Oh yeah, 'Snowball,'" I said. "My mom used to read me that too. Yeah, there's a white one. I can't remember though—in the story, was Snowball a boy or a girl?"

"A girl, if I'm not mistaken," Carlisle said, and I rolled my eyes, because I knew he wasn't. Gently, I pulled the white kitten out of the little nest it had made in the towel and looked at it.

"Yup, it's a girl," I said. "Do you want me to bring it to the hospital?"

"No, I'll take an early lunch and then drop the kitten off at Cathy's house. She has the day off, so she can get some kitten supplies before I bring the little one over."

"Sounds great, thanks," I said. "We'll be here waiting."

Carlisle thanked me and hung up, which was when I finally noticed that Jessica and Angela were both staring at me.

"Dr. Cullen's coming here?" Jessica said, gaping at my phone, as if she couldn't believe I'd really just been talking to him.

"Yeah, he works with a nurse who's looking for a kitten for her daughter. You know that picture book about the white kitten, "Snowball"? That's why she wants a white one."

"Oh, my brothers used to love that book," Angela said, letting a grey kitten chew on her finger. "Now they say it's for babies."

"I'm gonna go fix my hair!" Jessica announced, rushing up the stairs toward the bathroom.

"Um, he's married with five kids who are our age, remember?" Angela called, and we both laughed a little. "Never mind, I guess."

"I get the feeling that she doesn't really care," I said, wondering where I could get milk for kittens—I knew that the regular kind wouldn't be good for their stomachs.

Angela shrugged, cradling a kitten in each arm. "The Cullens are like celebrities around here, you know? People never seem to care that movie stars are married. They get crushes on them anyway."

"That's true," I said, smiling at the fact that in spite of their efforts to appear normal (or at least be inconspicuous), the Cullens were local celebrities. It was probably inevitable, not just because of their arresting good looks, but ironically because of their habit of striving for relative anonymity. The mystery of the Cullens, I'd told Edward more than once, only made them that much more alluring; no, they couldn't risk getting too close to too many people, but keeping to themselves the way they had at school when I'd first arrived sort of defeated the purpose of trying to blend in.

Edward always insisted that staying separate was part of being discreet, even if doing so could backfire in a town as small as Forks, where any newcomer drew attention. Maybe New York or Seattle would be big enough for the Cullens to sort of blend in, but it seemed to me that they must always draw attention wherever they went. And probably, in many cases, trying to be inconspicuous was itself conspicuous.

Jessica soon returned with her hair and makeup marginally different than it had been a few minutes earlier. We played with the kittens and I found some old towels for them to lie on, and we got them some water; I hoped that that would be enough to sate their appetites a little until I could find them the right kind of food. Then we talked about our back to school preparations and which colleges we were applying to. Eventually, the kittens fell asleep in an adorable pile that we oohed and ahhed over. (Seriously, they were almost alarmingly cute.) Then, while we were starting to talk about what to do for lunch, I heard Carlisle's car pull into the driveway.

"Ohmygod, he's here!" Jessica cried, patting her hair frantically. Angela was suddenly blushing, and before the white kitten could escape from her suddenly frozen hands, I took the little white ball of fur and wrapped the kitten in a towel.

"Deep breaths, guys," I said, knowing from experience that attractive vampires could sometimes make you forget to breathe. Then I opened the door and there was Carlisle, looking as unnervingly perfect as he always did, but also a bit strange, since he was holding a cat carrier.

"Hello, Bella," he said, nodding at the carrier he held. "I hope you haven't had time to get too attached to her." Then he nodded at my friends, who I could almost feel blushing behind me. "Hello. It's Jessica, and Angela, isn't it?"

"Yes," Angela said quickly. "Hi."

"Hi, Dr. Cullen," Jessica said, grinning.

"Don't worry, she's all yours," I said, struggling to hold on to the suddenly panicked kitten as Carlisle swiftly set the cat carrier down in the hall. I opened it and set the kitten inside, towel and all—it had started squirming the second that Carlisle opened the door, and once inside the carrier, it started to mew plaintively. I quickly closed the door before she could try to escape.

"Aww, she's going to miss her brothers and sisters," Jessica said. Carlisle glanced at me and smiled, and when Angela and Jessica weren't looking, I glanced back at the other kittens. Sure enough, they were cowering in their box—they were young, but they still knew a superior predator when they smelled one.

"I called Esme, and she said that she and Alice will try to find homes for the other five today," Carlisle said, picking up the carrier. The kitten, rather than crying now, was silent, though I could see its wide, scared eyes shining out at me from the gloom. Little Snowball was going to be really relieved when she arrived at her new _human_ home.

"Thanks," I said, wondering if people who wanted kittens was something that Alice had ever used her gift to look for before. "Until then, do you know where I can buy milk, or I guess formula for kittens? We weren't sure if the grocery store would have something like that."

Carlisle gave me the name of a pet store on the edge of town, and Jessica and Angela agreed to come with me to pick up some lunch before returning to kitten-sit.

"Thanks, Carlisle," I said as he prepared to leave. "That's one down, five to go."

"Good luck, Bella," Carlisle said, smiling at me and nodding at Angela and Jessica—neither of them had stopped blushing yet. "I'm sure it'll all work out eventually."

I smiled too. "With Alice and Esme helping me, I'm sure it will."


	242. Solution

Hi everyone! Yikes, today's chapter ended up running really long, which is (hopefully) a good thing for you, but for me, it makes editing an exercise in endurance. (In retrospect, I probably should have split this into two chapters somehow...) Still, here it is, the final chapter in this three chapter story arc. Hope you enjoy it, thanks again for your reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 81 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 2! :)

_2005_: Solution

Esme's POV

Esme was leaving a gallery in Seattle when she got Carlisle's message about Bella's predicament. Then, a few minutes later, she received a text from Edward suggesting that Emmett have his texting privileges revoked. Not long after that, Alice called her while she was driving back to Forks, and said that she'd already found homes for three of the kittens that Bella and her human friends were currently caring for.

"So, don't worry, because I've got it all under control," Alice said cheerfully.

"I don't doubt that," Esme said with a smile. "Are you sure you don't want me to do anything?"

"Nope, I'll be fine. It's these kittens you should be worrying about, Esme. Vampire scent alone is probably enough to scar them for life—I just talked to Bella, and she said that the kittens hid for an hour after Carlisle left."

Esme sighed. "Well, that's unavoidable, I suppose. You could try putting on some perfume before you go to Bella's house, though I doubt that will really help."

"It doesn't usually fool humans, so I doubt an animal with a better nose will be convinced that I'm just smelly and not dangerous," Alice agreed. Then she paused for a few moments.

"Alice?"

"Sorry, I'm still here. Actually, could you do something for me?"

"Whatever you'd like," Esme said, wondering if Alice had just had a vision of both of them going to Bella's instead of Alice going on her own.

"Do you mind getting cat supplies on your way back into town? It looks like I won't have time."

"Sure," Esme said, listening as Alice listed the things that the kittens would need when being delivered to new homes, then hanging up the phone just as it started to rain again.

Esme had a pleasant time at the store, shopping for cat supplies. It was something she'd never done before, and though she mostly followed Alice's list, she also bought a few things—like toys and catnip treats—just because they were cute or because they didn't smell as bad as some of the other foods intended for cats. When she brought everything over to the Swan house, Bella's friends had gone, but she still made several trips from the car to the house, as she didn't want Bella's neighbors seeing her carrying five boxes of cat litter effortlessly.

Bella helped unload all the supplies and put them into separate bags so Alice's kitten deliveries would be easier. In each bag, Esme also included a note explaining that the kitten was a gift, and some money to pay for spaying or neutering and the kitten's first year of shots. Esme thought that Bella seemed a little less enamored with the kittens than she had that morning when they'd talked after Carlisle's visit. Esme could guess why, judging by what she smelled, but she decided not to mention it directly.

"I take it you won't be too sad to see the little ones go," Esme said, smiling as Bella took her coat and hung it up before leading the way to the living room.

"Not so much. None of them are house-trained yet," Bella explained, picking up some cleaning supplies and carrying a handful of rags toward the washing machine. "I eventually put them in the bathroom, so they'd be easier to clean up after and so they couldn't try to hide from you and Alice."

"Excellent strategy," Esme said, though she could smell the kittens from where she stood in the living room, and their fear at the sudden arrival of another vampire was palpable. Though they couldn't really hide, they would try, and they clearly weren't going to emerge from the bathroom without a fight.

"Do you have some thick gloves that you can wear when you go in to pick them up?" Esme said. "And I'm guessing Carlisle mentioned this, but I hope you've been washing your hands a lot today. As sweet as they look, I doubt they've had their shots."

"I've been careful," Bella promised. "They've all nipped and scratched at me, but none of them have managed to break the skin. Trust me, I've heard how unpleasant rabies shots can be, so I'm trying to avoid that outcome."

"Good to know," Esme said, smiling. "They don't smell sick anyway, but if you start feeling odd, talk to Carlisle, all right?"

"I will," Bella promised, smiling too. "You are such a mom, Esme."

Esme laughed. "Thank you. Worrying is kind of our specialty, and having nearly indestructible children, I don't get as many chances to fret as I'd like."

"You can't really enjoy worrying," Bella said. "I mean, it's not really a fun activity for moms, is it? You just can't help it."

"Well, there's that, but it also feels…necessary," Esme said thoughtfully. "It's superstitious, I suppose, but it often feels like if I worry about something, it won't happen, like if I imagine the worst case scenario, I can avoid it. I get edgy sometimes if I don't have something to worry about—not because I enjoy it, but because I feel that if nothing's troubling me, I must be missing something."

To Esme's surprise, Bella nodded. "That makes sense. It's like, if things seem too good to be true, then maybe they are. I worry about that sometimes."

Esme took Bella's hand and squeezed it; she often worried about Edward and Bella, and how things were going to work out between them, in hopes that things really _would _work out in the long run, and she wasn't surprised that Bella did the same. "Well, don't worry too much. Let Renée and I do that for you."

Bella smiled a little. "Okay. Thanks."

Just then, Alice's car pulled up in front of the house. Esme lifted the stack of cat carriers she'd brought inside and nodded toward the stairs. "Go put on some gloves—I'll take these upstairs and then let Alice in."

Bella nodded, and by the time Esme had shot up the stairs and set the carriers outside the bathroom door, Alice was letting herself inside, shaking water out of her short hair, which looked inky black thanks to the rain.

"Ready to deliver some kittens?" she said eagerly. "And yes, as you probably already guessed, I see you coming with me. Jasper's going to pick up your car and take it home."

"In that case, I'm almost ready," Esme said. "I think that Bella should be the only one to touch them—we'd probably give the poor things a heart attack."

"You're right," Alice said, making a face at whatever her visions showed her. "Trying to touch them probably wouldn't end well. Bella should be okay though. I think. It's hard to see animals."

"Don't worry," Bella said, emerging from the hall closet wearing her winter coat and a thick pair of mittens. "I should be pretty well-protected like this."

Alice laughed and gave Bella a quick hug. "I think you're right, though a football helmet might be a good addition, if you've got one."

"I don't," Bella said, rolling her eyes. "I promise that I'll be careful not to get my eyes clawed out by vicious _kittens_."

Esme and Alice waited downstairs while Bella loaded the kittens into their carriers. From the sound of it, they were too paralyzed with fear by the smell of vampire to struggle much. Once they were in their cages though, Bella called Esme and Alice upstairs, sounding relieved.

"Yeah, I'm glad I wore gloves," she said, frowning at the kittens. "These little guys can be fierce when they want to be."

"Well, I'm happy to say that you're going to avoid having to have rabies shots," Alice said, squeezing Bella's shoulders. "I mean, as far as I can tell. For the immediate future at least, you've avoided a nasty series of injections."

"Thank you, Alice," Bella said drily. "That's very reassuring."

"Would you like to come deliver the kittens with us?" Esme asked.

Bella frowned again as she glanced into the bathroom. "It looks like I'd better spend some time cleaning up in here before I start dinner. Thanks for offering though—and thanks for taking care of this. Was it difficult, seeing people who wanted kittens?"

"Not really," Alice said easily. "I just concentrated and there they were—names and addresses. Anyway, we'd better get these guys and girls to their new homes before they really do die of fright. They're all sort of ominously quiet right now…"

"We'll see you soon, honey," Esme said, kissing Bella on the cheek before picking up a carrier in each hand. Alice took two, Bella took one, and together, they hurried through the rain and put the kittens in Alice's car, then loaded the bags of supplies into the trunk. Bella waved as they drove off, and then Alice drove quickly through Forks, stopping at random houses and identifying them as the future home of this kitten or that one. At each house, Esme got out of the car, dashed through the rain, made sure that the kitten's carrier and other supplies were in a dry place, like on a porch or at least under an awning, and then she would knock or ring the doorbell before going back to the car. She and Alice would wait in the idling vehicle a block or so away until they saw each kitten be taken inside, and then they headed for the next house.

And then, in little over an hour, they were finished. Already, the scent of frightened animal seemed to be fading from the car's interior, though once the rain had stopped, they rolled down the windows to further accelerate the process. It was still cloudy, which made the early evening almost as dark as night, and Esme took deep breaths of fresh air as they drove. They were both quiet for a few moments, which was unusual for Alice, until finally, Esme spoke.

"So, who is she?"

Alice smiled innocently. "Who?"

"The person who set up that P.O. Box," Esme said patiently. "The person who's been asking you to deliver things to people."

Alice sighed and smiled ruefully. "I thought you'd made up your mind not to ask me about it, though I knew you suspected that I was involved. At least, the chances of your confronting me seemed slim until just now."

Esme nodded. "I guess they were, but I can't resist now, not after the secretive way we just delivered those kittens. Clearly, you've had a lot of practice at that sort of thing. And what you said to Bella today certainly left me tempted to finally ask you about all this."

Alice looked momentarily confused.

"You just concentrated and saw 'names and addresses'?" Esme said, raising her eyebrows. "Bella doesn't know your gift as well as I do, Alice. It doesn't take much detective work to figure out that you were talking about _letters_. I've never known you to see things that people want. From what you've told me in the past, you can see things that might happen, actions that people might take. It would be one thing if you'd started searching your visions for potential pet owners a week ago. But to find five such people, all in a few hours? The only way you could have found something so specific so quickly is if you already knew someone who was trying to find kittens for people. Who else would be trying to answer requests like that, made in the form of letters, but the P.O. Box owner?"

"You said 'she,'" Alice said quietly. "How did you figure that out?"

Esme shrugged. "Just a guess, actually. I had a fifty-fifty chance of being right, after all. Besides, it seems like the sort of thing I might do, if I could be sure that I could keep it a secret, so it was easy to picture the person as a woman. So, who is she?"

"Her name's Ava, and she's lived in Forks all her life," Alice said softly. "A long time ago, she married a man from Seattle, but then her husband left her and moved back there—she guesses he missed the big city, or maybe just the girls there. But when he died, for some reason, he left her all his money. Ava didn't want it though, so she decided to give it all away. I saw her in a vision, and when I realized that she was going to get caught if she really tried to go through with her idea by herself, I went to her house.

I told her that I was planning to do a local history project for my senior year, so I asked her lots of questions about what the town used to be like, back in the big logging days. And at first, that was all we talked about, but eventually, she told me about her plan for giving away her ex-husband's money. So, I asked if I could help. Right away, I had her ask her niece to set up the P.O. Box—if I'd done it, or if Ava had, everyone at the post office would have caught on right away, so it had to be someone from out of town. Then, the same niece placed the ad in the newspaper with the address. After that, the letters started arriving pretty quickly. I sneak in to pick them up whenever no one else is around—they don't have security cameras at the post office, so no one knows who's been collecting the letters yet."

"And you've also been buying and delivering the things that people ask Ava for," Esme said.

Alice nodded. "Usually I drive to Seattle, just to be sure that no one will notice me and guess what I'm up to, shopping so much, even for me. Ava picks which letters we answer, and she pays for most things, though sometimes I help out a little too."

"And you've been doing this all on your own?"

Alice nodded again. "I knew that it would be tricky for me _and_ Jasper to keep this a secret from Edward. So, when I started, I told Jasper that I'd be working on a secret project for a while, and he hasn't asked anything since, because he knows how hard it is to keep anything from our resident mind reader. He's been using his alone time at night to catch up on comics and video games."

"But how _have_ you kept this from Edward?" Esme wondered.

"Esme, he's been with Bella so much this summer that I could probably start building a time machine in the garage without him noticing. Usually, I only have to watch what I'm thinking for a few hours every day, and unlike the rest of you, I have the advantage of knowing when he's going to be home and when he's going to be gone, so it's easier to guard my thoughts. Besides, even if he knew, I don't think he'd mind as long as I don't get caught."

"Neither do I, and since Carlisle hasn't mentioned this to you lately, I'm guessing he doesn't mind either," Esme said, though she knew that like her, Carlisle probably suspected that Alice was up to something—when asked if she was the mastermind behind the P.O. Box, she'd said no, but she'd never denied having any involvement at all. "Still, you know that you can't keep this up forever, Alice."

Alice smiled sadly. "I know. Actually…Ava won't be around for much longer anyway. She's really sick, and her niece wants her to go to a hospice. She doesn't have any kids of her own—the reason I had you buy cat stuff today was because I was visiting her. She wants to stay in her home as long as she can, and when she needs it, I'll find someone to come to her house to take care of her. By the end of the month, I think…she'll be gone."

Esme put her arm around Alice's shoulders. They'd reached the turnoff leading to the house, but Alice stopped the car in the driveway—abruptly, she looked like she was going to cry.

"I never really had a human friend before Bella," she said softly, and Esme thought about how Alice had hugged Bella that day—she'd been more affectionate than usual, even for Alice. "I know people die—I've killed people, for heaven's sake! But it's different…knowing someone who's going to die and wishing that they wouldn't. I just…I wish I'd known her sooner, or that I could help her more."

"It sounds like you've already helped her a lot, Alice," Esme said gently. "By helping her the way you have, you've brought a lot of joy to her final months. I know what you mean though—it never seems like we've done enough for the people we love when we're about to lose them."

Esme thought of her son, dying in her arms, and how many times she'd wished that she could have done more for him. It was one of the most terrible feelings she could think of, but it was perhaps an inescapable part of being human…apparently, even for people who weren't human anymore.

"All you can do is your best," Esme said at last. "Help her however you can, and I know that'll be enough. It might not feel like it, but it will be, Alice. Trust me. I know that everything you've already done for Ava means more to her than you'll ever know."

Alice smiled, still looking sad, but she seemed less stricken now. "Okay. Thank you, Esme. And, do you mind—"

"I won't tell a soul about this," Esme promised, and Alice leaned over and hugged her before finally driving the car up to the garage. Esme realized then that Alice must have made all her covert deliveries on foot—otherwise, someone would have spotted a sports car cruising the streets of Forks at all hours by now. She imagined Alice creeping through the darkness, carrying some of the heavier gifts she'd heard about—tires, bicycles, roofing equipment—and smiled.

_If anyone saw her carrying those things, they wouldn't believe their eyes anyway_, she thought—Esme knew that she'd have to be cautious when Edward was around, but by now, he'd be at Bella's for the night, so her thoughts couldn't betray Alice's secret.

"Be careful, all right?" Esme said suddenly, taking Alice's hand as they headed inside. "Just…don't get caught. It'll be more fun for the people you're helping if you can maintain the mystery that Ava's devised."

Alice smiled more easily now. "As a mom, I know you're obligated to tell me to be careful, but thanks. And I will be. Right now though, I should probably go see if Jasper needs any help beating the final boss in his game. Goodnight, Esme."

"Goodnight, Alice," Esme said, giving her a quick hug before she hurried off to the room she shared with Jasper.

"Hi," Carlisle said, smiling at her when she found him in his office, sitting at his desk and reading. "Busy day?"

"Very," Esme said, crossing the room in two strides and sitting in Carlisle's lap. Smiling, he set his book down and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Are you going to tell me what you and Alice were up to tonight?" he murmured. "You look like you've got a secret."

"I do, but since it's really Alice's secret, I can't tell you," Esme said with a smile. "Maybe when it's not a secret anymore, I'll tell you about it, but let's do something else tonight. Any ideas?"

Carlisle leaned forward to kiss her, and Esme was glad she'd locked the office door behind her. "I'm sure we'll think of something."


	243. Building

Hi everyone! This week's chapter deals with the Cullens and how they might have to work harder than usual to blend in after a natural disaster; also, I like the idea of their helping to build houses, since their strength and Esme's expertise would really come in handy, but because I can't see their helping with something like Habitat for Humanity (since they wouldn't be able to just not work on a sunny day), I thought this scenario seemed more plausible. Also, I have to apologize: after this, there isn't going to be another new chapter until September 23rd. I'm going on vacation (my first time home since I moved to Illinois in February), and though I'm hoping to get some chapters written (and get some outlines done for the Breaking Dawn chapters I'll be writing in November), realistically, I just don't think I'm going to be able to post new chapters. So, sorry for the long hiatus, but thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again soon! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and only 74 more days until "Breaking Dawn" Part 2! :)

_1994_: Building

Emmett's POV

As another brief squall of rain passed, Emmett stared at a pile of lumber, trying to decide how much he should be able to lift at one time. There were no humans his size working, and though he'd seen humans his approximate height and weight do similar jobs before, it was hard to tell how much was a reasonable load and how much a human would carry when they were trying to show off. In the end, Emmett settled for a load twice as large as Edward's, which seemed plausible, though maybe a little ostentatious.

A freak tornado had swept through town two days before, and now, on a cloudy September morning, the Cullens, along with virtually every other able-bodied person in town, were helping with the rebuilding and salvaging efforts. Remarkably, only a few people had been injured in the tornado, and no one had died. Carlisle had helped as best he could with injuries immediately after the disaster, but by now, most of those who'd been hurt had been sent to hospitals in neighboring towns. (The hospital where Carlisle worked no longer had a roof after the storm, so it would be a while before the doctors there could accept patients with anything but minor injuries.)

Emmett knew that, given the state of the Cullen house, people considered it a minor miracle that he and the rest of his family were all unharmed. Of course, vampire strength made it extremely easy to survive a tornado, and the fact that they'd actually gone down to the basement just before the storm hit had certainly helped as well. But though it hadn't seriously harmed anyone, the storm had still managed to seriously annoy every member of the family.

Alice, who'd actually stepped outside to look at the storm just before it connected with the house, had ended up a little windswept, but the only reason she'd been bothered by the storm was that it had broken several windows and torn off a section of the roof, thus turning her bedroom inside out.

"I'm still finding pieces of clothing in trees all over the forest," she'd grumbled that morning. Carlisle was grateful that his library and art collection had been spared, while Esme had managed to save the family photos and her sketchbooks, but they too had lost most of their clothes, as well as some furniture that Esme had been fond of. Edward's record collection was mostly unharmed, but he was still morose about the items he'd lost, which would be hard to replace, since some were old acetate discs from the thirties.

Emmett and Jasper had both lost some sports equipment and comic books, and though that was annoying, they'd be easily replaced—he and Jasper could go shopping with Alice and Rose over the weekend, once the house was in decent shape again. Really, the person who'd gotten the worst of it in the tornado was Rosalie, who'd been hit in the head by a tree. It had flown through the ceiling of the basement at a remarkable speed, and though Rose had managed to avoid the trunk, she was furious just the same because of what the branches of the tree had done to her hair.

Emmett, for his part, was very proud of the fact that he hadn't once laughed—the situation wasn't funny of course, but it was unnerving to the point of being almost amusing, just seeing Rose, who always kept herself so carefully groomed, looking even a little disheveled. Of course, Rosalie wasn't hurt, but since it had been a pine tree that had hit her, she was irritated to no end that her hair was full of sap. She'd done little since the storm had ended but wash her hair over and over, slowly dislodging the sticky mess of goo and pine needles from her hair. Emmett had offered to help her shower, but she hadn't seemed interested, which was how he found himself repairing houses with Carlisle, Esme, Jasper and Edward.

Alice, who had been deemed too small for construction detail by the humans in charge, was helping out by passing out food and water to people as they sifted through their damaged homes and began rebuilding. Emmett thought that her hair still looked unusually tousled, but no one else seemed to notice, though he heard a few humans joke that Alice Cullen was so small it was lucky she hadn't been blown away. (Emmett knew that Alice and Jasper had in fact taken a ride in a tornado once, and though of course they'd been unharmed, Carlisle and Esme discouraged such activities on the grounds that someone might see them.)

"You know, if we just concentrated on our house, we could get everything fixed in a few hours," Emmett pointed out as Edward walked past him, carrying another load of lumber. It wasn't the first time he'd made that observation, but Edward was fun to annoy.

Edward, predictably, rolled his eyes. "Yes, because of course that wouldn't seem suspicious at all. We patched the holes in the roof so rain can't get in, but otherwise, you know we have to wait at least a week before making any major repairs. No one else is going to have their house fixed sooner than that, so we just have to wait."

"Yeah, yeah," Emmett said, picking up a few two-by-fours. "Hey, does this look like too many to you?"

Edward shrugged. "That's probably fine. Actually, could you go help Esme for a minute? It sounds like she's having a hard time pretending that she can't lift as much as she's really able to. She could use you for a demonstration."

Emmett grinned. "Sure, that sounds like fun."

When he found Esme, she did seem annoyed, or at least what passed for annoyed as far as Esme was concerned. She was smiling patiently at a man who knew a lot less about construction work than she did, but of course he didn't know that Esme had been building and repairing houses long before he'd been born. Emmett grinned at the man, who immediately stopped talking—even when he meant to be friendly (though he didn't now), Emmett knew that his grins tended to come off as threatening.

"Emmett," Esme said cheerfully. "Could you hold this in place while I should Mr. Vernon what I mean?"

"Sure, Mom," Emmett said, picking up the length of plywood that Esme indicated. Hopefully, it looked like he was struggling a little, assuming that was the correct reaction to lifting something like this. It annoyed Emmett at times, having to pretend to be human in situations when vampire strength would so clearly come in handy, but it could be an entertaining challenge too, particularly now, when the human watching him still seemed stunned into silence.

Esme quickly nailed the plywood in place, and then she turned back to the still silent Mr. Vernon.

"If we do it like this, I think the owners of the house will be happier in the long run," Esme said calmly. "This way, it will be easier to put in new insulation. See?"

Mr. Vernon glanced at Emmett, then nodded. "Okay, I see your point, Mrs. Cullen." Then he quickly muttered something about helping out with shingling and hurried away.

"Thank you, Emmett," Esme said, smiling easily at him.

"You could have scared him away just as easily," Emmett pointed out. "Why let me have all the fun?"

"Because it's easier to work with men like Mr. Vernon if they don't see my scary side. Part of being inconspicuous is not frightening people just to prove that I know more than they do. He'll forget about feeling intimidated by you soon enough—you're a lot taller and more muscular than he is, so it's not so strange that you'd make him feel a little nervous—but he'd remember feeling threatened by me. So, thank you for being threatening in my stead, and for letting me watch you knock someone down a peg just by smiling at him."

Emmett grinned—Esme was way better at secrecy than he guessed he'd ever be. And though she sometimes found herself involved in annoying exchanges with humans who thought she could be intimidated or overruled because she looked so sweet and motherly, it seemed that Esme could always find a way to get even without getting mad in the process.

Carlisle appeared in the doorway of the house they were working on just then, carrying a first aid kit.

"Mr. Shearhouse just fell off a roof," he said, nodding at the blood on his coat, which Esme and Emmett had both noticed. "He's not badly hurt, just scratched up—he landed in some azalea bushes."

"Ouch," Esme said, looking relieved when Carlisle removed the coat he wore and set it aside. "Come on, want to give me a hand with the plumbing in the next room?"

"Oh, so is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Emmett asked, grinning at his parents as they moved to a different room, holding hands as they walked.

"Go do work!" Esme called.

"Listen to your mother," Carlisle said cheerfully, and Emmett laughed. He didn't need Edward's power to know that they really were slipping away for a moment alone. _And at least if they break anything we're supposed to be rebuilding_, Emmett thought, looking around for more two-by-fours to carry, _at least Esme can fix it._


	244. Magic

Hi everyone! I'm finally back, and after a great vacation, I'm really excited about the new chapters I have coming up. As in previous years with previous "Twilight" movies, because I'm an insane person (I think I said that last year too...), in the days preceding "Breaking Dawn" Part 2, I'll be posting a chapter every day; I'm already working on those, so I'm hoping I won't have to rush at the last minute. Thanks for your reviews, and for your patience in my absence, and I'll see you again next Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 53 DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! :)

_1919_: Magic

Edward's POV

It was a cloudy day in Chicago, and Carlisle and I were standing in a bookshop when it happened. More than anything that day, I was overwhelmingly glad to finally be out among people again. Even though my throat burned hideously, it was wonderful, being able to look around a shop, pick out my own books for a change (Carlisle had been buying various titles for me for months, so I knew our tastes in reading material were somewhat different), and generally feel like I was part of the world again, even though the thing that Carlisle had made me forced me to be separate from everyone, save other monsters like ourselves.

Perhaps it was because I was thinking about my newfound monstrous nature that I was so careless. Whatever the reason, it took only an instant for me to pick up a book—a book I'd enjoyed as a boy—and, thinking of my former human life, I gripped the book too hard, until I accidentally slid my fingers through it, as if it were as soft as butter. The spine held together, and the paper that I'd crushed almost to powder somehow didn't escape from the book, but I knew without turning to look that a girl browsing in the neighboring aisle had seen what I'd done.

"That's amazing!" the girl said brightly, looking impressed. "How did you do that?"

I opened my mouth to speak, not knowing what I should say—the girl was wondering if I had super strength, if I worked for a circus, if the book I'd destroyed was somehow a fake—what paralyzed me momentarily was the fact that she wasn't looking for one specific explanation. She had no idea how I'd done what I'd done; she was simply curious to hear what I'd say. Without there being anything in particular that she wanted to hear, I had no idea what answer to give, because I didn't know what explanation would leave her with the fewest nagging suspicions.

Suddenly, Carlisle was at my side. "It was magic," he said, smiling easily at the girl, who was no more than twelve or thirteen, and producing a deck of cards from his pocket. I kept my expression calm—I couldn't quite manage to appear friendly—and I recalled Carlisle picking up the deck of cards before we'd left the house that day. Seeing what he had in mind, I slipped the damaged book into my coat too quickly for human eyes to follow, then carefully took an unspoiled copy from the shelf while the girl's eyes were on Carlisle.

"It was just a trick?" the girl wondered, and then she gasped when I held out the undamaged book to her. "But how—"

"Simple sleight of hand," I managed, not wanting to breathe in the presence of the girl. Besides, I could hear that Carlisle was ready to speak.

"My cousin and I are traveling magicians," he explained, shuffling the cards he held. "Sometimes, it's hard to resist trying out a new trick, no matter where we are."

"Then please show me a card trick," the girl said, eying the cards hopefully. "I'd like to see if I can figure out how you do it."

"Watch carefully then," Carlisle said, smiling in that easy way he has, which tells every human who sees him, 'I am one of you. I am nothing to be afraid of.' "First, pick a card and show it to my cousin, but don't show it to me."

The girl chose a card and showed it to me, though I'd already seen it in her head: the three of hearts. I nodded and winked at her, finally managing a smile. Perhaps the girl was a bit oblivious in general, because she seemed unperturbed by the unusual sharpness of my teeth. She even smiled back at me.

"Now, put the card back in the deck," Carlisle instructed, and the girl did so, all the while carefully watching his hands.

"Is this your card?" Carlisle asked, showing her a card off the top of the deck.

"No," the girl said, shaking her head.

"How about this one?" Carlisle said, trying another.

"No," the girl said, smiling. "Are you sure you know how to do this trick?"

"I'm sure," Carlisle said with a chuckle. "How about this one?"

The girl shook her head again. Carlisle asked her about one more card, and then, seemingly unsurprised that all of the cards he'd picked were wrong, he handed them to the girl.

"Set these on that table there, then cover them with your hands."

The girl did as she was told. I glanced toward the front of the shop—the man minding the store was wondering what was taking us so long, but he hadn't yet resolved to come back and check on us. I heard Carlisle tap the underside of the table that the girl had set the cards on, and I turned back to see what would happen next. Carlisle wasn't thinking about the trick now—he was getting good at keeping my ability from finding out his every thought, and anyway, it seemed that he'd done it enough times before that he barely had to think about what he was doing as he moved his hands over the cards.

"Pick up the top three cards," Carlisle said, and the girl did.

Carlisle smiled mysteriously. "Now turn over the bottom card."

The girl did, and somehow, there was the three of hearts.

"That's incredible!" the girl exclaimed, and even I was a bit impressed, since I'd missed seeing how he did it. "But how—"

"Magic, like I said before," Carlisle said with an easy laugh. "And a true magician never reveals the secrets behind his tricks."

"Virginia!" a woman's voice called suddenly from the front of the shop. "It's time to go!"

"Coming!" the girl called. "Well, thank you very much for showing me your skills."

"Our pleasure, miss," Carlisle said, bowing to her, and though I was closer to her in age, I could hear from her thoughts that after this encounter, Virginia would be carrying a torch for Dr. Cullen for some time to come.

"Thank you," I said awkwardly—it still felt strange at times to be civil to him, in spite of the fact that I needed him, and in the months since I'd met him, I'd gradually come to loathe my new life a little less. Carlisle took the book I held, and swiftly, I also slipped him the one I'd destroyed.

"We'll wait until Virginia and her mother have gone to buy this," he said, adding the book to a stack of his own that I hadn't noticed before.

"Aunt," I corrected. "She's in town visiting for the month while her mother recovers from some illness—I couldn't tell what. I'm worried that we've given her a slightly skewed impression of the big city though. Now she's going to think that any strange man she talks to in a shop might be a kindly magician."

Carlisle chuckled. "I hope she's a bit better supervised than that. Anyway, don't you think that if she tells her aunt about us, the aunt in question is going to watch her more carefully from now on? I daresay Virginia's retelling of the story that just took place is going to make us sound rather suspicious; her aunt's going to think that we must have really been pickpockets, or kidnappers."

"Exactly," I said dubiously. "I thought we were supposed to be inconspicuous."

"She noticed what you did to the book, and once someone's noticed you, you can't undo that," Carlisle said patiently. "That's why I showed her the card trick. Odds are, she'll remember that better than she'll remember what we look like. If you can't keep people from noticing you, distract them with unimportant details. I brought a deck of cards with us today just in case someone saw you forget your own strength. 'Magic,' as an explanation for strange abilities, is a good one, if you can back it up with some simple illusions."

I rolled my eyes at Carlisle's own slightly oblivious nature. "Virginia will remember what you look like, trust me. She's sweet on you now."

Carlisle raised his eyebrows. "Is she?"

I sighed and shook my head. "You have no idea how women look at you, do you?"

Carlisle shrugged. "I suppose I've learned not to notice it. Just because they like me doesn't mean they should, after all. And I certainly can't encourage attention like that."

"True," I said, thinking that he was right after all—better to be thought of as a pickpocket or amateur magician than a Don Juan or something worse...something like a vampire. I was silent as we made our way, very slowly, toward the front of the shop. "How did you do that trick anyway? I missed seeing the secret behind it, and I couldn't hear how you did it either."

Carlisle chuckled, but he didn't let me see the answer in his head; he focused on the books we were purchasing instead. "It's a fairly simple trick, really. Humans can do it too. I'll teach it to you, if you'd like."

I smiled reluctantly. Life with Carlisle, I had to admit, was no longer as unbearable as I'd first thought. "Sure. Just in case I need to pass myself off as a magician the next time I break something."


	245. Hobbies

Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update; it was an unexpectedly busy weekend. Today's chapter offers a look at some of the Cullens' hobbies, one of Alice's in particular, because if you had all the time in the world, I think you'd inevitably acquire at least a few odd hobbies. (Also, random note: I was once a member of a club like Alice's, and I went pretty much the whole first year without talking to anyone, so it's definitely possible, even if you're not a vampire. :)) Next week, I've got some nice fluff planned for Carlisle and Esme, so please look forward to that. :) Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 44 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2!

_2000_: Hobbies

Alice's POV

As Alice put on a bit of makeup and fixed her wig before walking to campus, the sight of a model ship that Jasper had built recently, sitting on his desk and smelling of wood and model glue and other more delicate scents, made her smile. Over the years, every member of the family had taken up various hobbies that they might have never discovered, let alone developed an interest in, if they hadn't been immortal. Carlisle had gone through several amateur archeology phases, and before it was debunked, he was a skeptical but bemused fan of phrenology. Esme, with her passion for all forms of art, had at one point become very adept at scrimshaw, and at the moment, she and Jasper were both on a bit of a model-building kick, though Esme tended to build models of buildings, while Jasper preferred vehicles of every stripe.

Rosalie had, at one time or another, experimented with every imaginable kind of mechanical tinkering, to the point that she had once restored a WWII era vehicle called a Duck, which you could drive on land or drive into water and operate as a boat; Emmett had played virtually every game (board, video, or athletic competition) known to man, and he'd read seemingly every comic book in existence. (His love of bird watching, while short-lived, had also been interesting, though Alice knew that that hobby had been inspired by a bet Emmett had made with Jasper, which had involved eating as many animals as possible within a given time frame.) Alice knew from their years together that Jasper was a big fan of genealogy, and in addition to sharing Emmett's love of games and comics, would read just about any book, see any movie, and endure any of her innumerable fashion experiments. (Alice shuddered a little when she thought about the things she'd given him to wear in the eighties.)

Edward, being the only single member of the family, naturally had the most hobbies, though aside from a brief period when he'd learned to play the didgeridoo, most of Edward's interests were pretty staid. Anyway, Alice herself could never in good conscience giggle about any of her family members' odd hobbies, given her own leanings toward both timeless fashions and the strange things you saw on runways, and her brief affairs with both computer programming and ikebana, a form of traditional Japanese flower arrangement. Alice certainly wasn't thinking of joking about such things as she headed to the anime club that met every week at the college that she, Jasper, and Edward were currently attending.

Alice wasn't really a member of the club—not technically. Like many human members of the group, she didn't pay dues or vote in elections—she simply came every week to sit in the dark and watch movies and TV shows with people who also liked anime and manga. Alice never talked to anyone at these meetings either—being a Cullen always meant staying on the edge of things, even if you did decide to become involved with a group. However, Alice was tired of having to gently deflect the friendly advances of the sort of people who sometimes approached her when they saw her in public: as far as she could tell, people saw someone like her and equated her size with helplessness and cuteness, which was unfortunate, given how dangerous she actually was. So, when she'd first started coming to anime club, Alice had decided to wear a kind of disguise.

Since she was naturally so pale, by wearing a black wig and black clothes and adding a judicious bit of makeup, it was easy to appear Goth. Alice had never been very interested in Goth fashion or culture, but she found that it was an effective disguise. As far as she could tell from observing human Goths, a big part of their M.O. was this: leave other people alone, and they will leave you alone. Perhaps it wasn't that simple, but that was Alice's experience every time she put on her black wig and black leather boots and went to club. People seemed to take her silence and standoffishness as less of a sign of inherent otherness, and more as a personal choice on her part.

The first time Jasper saw her disguise, he'd done an admirable job of not laughing.

"What?" she'd said defensively, seeing the smile twitching at the edge of his mouth. "Come on, I totally look the part! My hair and clothes are perfect, at least according to my observations of real Goths."

"I'm sure they are," Jasper had said with a smile. "It's just…your personality is the thing that doesn't match. I mean, you're a vampire, so arguably you might be prone to Goth-ish tendencies, but I think you're just inherently too cheerful to really make a convincing Goth."

"Oh," Alice had said, frowning. "I didn't think about that."

"Isn't part of being Goth being preoccupied with death or something?" he'd asked. "I just think it's hard to pull that off when you're already dead."

"Or, maybe it's really easy," Alice had suggested. She'd thought at the time but didn't say that Edward seemed a bit Goth in his sensibilities sometimes, but she didn't mention it to Jasper—she knew that he and Emmett would have had a field day with that idea.

As Alice entered the building where club meetings were held, she smiled. Just like every week, there was the scent of snacks (which weren't remotely appetizing, but they _were_ a familiar indicator of the direction of the club room), and the sound of cheerful human voices. Though she was resigned to never speaking to people at anime club, she loved to hear them talk about series she liked or didn't like, and she always came away from these meetings with ideas for new things to read or watch.

"Before we start tonight, I have an announcement," the club president said a few moments after Alice had taken her seat. "Someone has made a really amazing donation to the university—a manga and anime collection over two thousand volumes in size, both in English and in Japanese. The whole thing is going to be housed over in the Asian Studies department, and starting next year, they'll be free to check out. So, look forward to free anime and manga next year, which we all know is exactly why our parents wanted us to go to college."

This announcement was met with cheers, laughter, and applause, and Alice allowed herself a small smile. The whole Cullen family was going to be moving soon—actually, since this was the last club meeting of the semester, this would probably be her last meeting ever. Of course, she and Jasper had the option to stay and get a place of their own, but he and Alice had agreed that they were ready for a change—both of them felt like they had enough degrees for now. And having a photographic memory made it easy to give up most of her anime and manga collection; whenever they moved to a new place, Alice liked to start fresh and travel light. So, she savored the thought of the almost-friends around her getting to enjoy her old books and movies, and then she settled in for an evening of anime.

When the meeting was over, Alice walked through campus toward home. She was about to head into the trees to take a shortcut when a car stopped beside her.

"Need a ride, Goth Alice?" Emmett called.

Alice rolled her eyes and turned to see Esme and Emmett in one of Edward's cars, Emmett waving to her. Trying to look as put upon as possible, just in case someone from anime club was watching, Alice got into the car. Esme immediately drove off, shaking her head.

"I've told you not to call her that, Emmett."

"Why not?" Emmett demanded. "As nicknames go, it definitely fits."

"'Goth Alice'?" Alice said skeptically. "Is that my new nickname?"

"It is when you dress like that to go watch anime," Emmett said. "At least, that's what I call you. It's like your secret identity."

"Actually, I think that since I'm normally like a superhero, I am my own secret identity, and Goth Alice is my mild-mannered alter ego," Alice said with a smile. "Is everyone else getting ready to go?"

"Yup. Rose and the others are moving cars up to the new house tonight," Emmett said. "We'll take turns driving the rest tonight and tomorrow, but we've almost got the house cleared out."

"Carlisle's last night of work is tonight," Esme said before Alice could ask where he was. "And like you and Jasper, he and I need to finish packing later."

Alice nodded. Scanning the future, she could see her husband and Edward leaving their final classes in the morning (they each had one more final to take, just in case they wanted to use the credits from this semester a few months or years down the road). Then she would ride with Jazz to their new house after they loaded up the car.

"I dropped off all my books and videos yesterday, inconspicuously, so I guess we're just about ready to leave," Alice said thoughtfully, continuing to scan her visions—the move, it seemed, would be pleasantly uneventful, though she could see that Carlisle and Esme were going to break their bed the first night in the new house.

"I know this goes without saying, Alice," Esme said, "But it was very kind of you to donate all those books and movies to the school. A lot of people are going to enjoy them."

Alice grinned. "That's the idea. I mean, the best part of having a hobby is getting to share it, right?"

"Hey, maybe I'll make that anime and manga stuff one of my new hobbies," Emmett said. "The fight scenes seem pretty cool from what I've seen of your old tapes."

Alice smiled. "If you join an anime club wherever we live next, I have some clothes you can borrow for a disguise."

Esme chuckled. "I doubt they'd fit."

Emmett grinned. "Goth Emmett, huh? I kinda like the sound of that."


	246. Leaves

Hi everyone! As I mentioned last week, this week's chapter is a short but lovely bit of Carlisle and Esme fluff. Next week, I'm afraid there won't be a new chapter, because I'm going camping with family. (So, I'll be back the week after next, assuming I don't freeze to death; yes, I'm being melodramatic, but camping in October can get a little chilly for my taste. :P) Thanks for your reviews, and I'll see you again soon! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 39 DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! :)

_1948_: Leaves

Carlisle's POV

Ever since he'd made his decision, Carlisle hadn't been able to stop smiling. It was a beautiful fall afternoon, and he was enjoying the sight of red and orange and yellow leaves falling from the trees that lined the road as he drove toward home. Carlisle had, for the first time in months, taken some time off, and now he was headed home early to surprise Esme.

As he was nearing the halfway point of the trip, Carlisle saw a familiar car coming down the hill up ahead of him. Then he grinned, delighted when he realized who was driving toward him. Laying on the horn of his own car, Carlisle waved to the driver. They both pulled up until their cars were parallel, and then they stopped in the middle of the dirt road.

"Hi there," Esme said, grinning at him.

"Hi," Carlisle said. "Running an errand?"

"Actually, I was going to the hospital to drag my husband home for some long overdue rest and relaxation," Esme said, smiling. "And by 'drag home,' I mean use my feminine wiles to remind him how much fun we could have with an afternoon to ourselves."

"Ah," Carlisle said, his grin widening. "Well, I think that your husband could be persuaded to see things your way. Want to leave the cars here and take a walk?"

Esme agreed, so they both pulled off the road, parked their cars in opposite ditches, and then took off into the closest field together. Despite the clouds threatening rain, the colorful leaves and brisk air made for a lovely day. After carefully sniffing the air and listening for humans both on the road and in the houses hidden in the trees beyond the fields (luckily, no one was closer than a few miles away at the moment), Carlisle sat down under a tree and Esme curled up in his lap. The coat he was wearing wasn't his—he and Esme had taken a little too long saying goodbye that morning, so he'd mistakenly grabbed one of Emmett's jackets in his haste to get to work. However, the cavernous size of the coat worked to his advantage now: unzipping it and wrapping it around Esme, Carlisle was able to zip it up again with both of them inside.

Esme chuckled. "Very cozy. Somehow I doubt that Emmett's going to want his jacket back after this."

Carlisle kissed her gently. "Well, we probably won't be wearing it for long…"

And sure enough, all of their clothes were soon discarded, and as the sky darkened further with the approach of sunset, they lay together on a pile of warm clothes and dry leaves.

Esme grinned suddenly. "I smell smoke. I used to love evenings like this, when my father would make a fire and the whole house would feel so warm and wonderful."

Carlisle nodded. "I remember thinking that it was almost worth being out in the cold as long as you could come in and sit by a fire. Though at the moment, I can't say I really miss being able to feel temperatures other than warmth."

Esme smiled and burrowed closer to him in their makeshift nest of clothing and leaves. "You're right—when I feel like this, it's hard to even imagine cold. Can you remember what it actually felt like?"

"No," Carlisle admitted. "It's been so many years since I was human that even though I can remember the symptoms of cold, I really can't recall the feeling."

There were a lot of things about being human that Carlisle couldn't remember: the feelings of pain or fatigue, the taste of food, sensations of being too warm or tool cold. He had missed those things once, before he'd had Esme and the rest of their family. Now though, the things he'd forgotten of human life seemed like the fallen leaves all around them: beautiful, but fleeting. In a way, losing them seemed only natural.

Esme turned in his arms to look at him. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking of how I used to miss things like that, before I knew you," Carlisle said. 'It seemed so important to try and remember what I used to be, to try and hold onto being human. Finding Edward reminded me how long I'd been immortal, and how I'd forgotten so many things over the centuries about the life I used to have. But then I met you, and I stopped missing those things so much. As long as I can be with you, as long as we can take care of each other, what I've forgotten doesn't matter. The person I am is more important than the person I used to be, because…with you, I'm better than I ever was without you."

Esme smiled radiantly. "Likewise."

Then she kissed him, and Carlisle forgot all about lost memories of sensations he would never feel again. Esme hadn't made him forget his past, but meeting her had reminded him how inconsequential it was. After all, how could the life he'd lost so long ago compare to the future he had with her? And when they were in each other's arms like this, cold seemed not to exist even in memory. There was only Esme: beautiful, passionate, and warm.


	247. Writing

Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update (somehow the weekend just flew by), and for disappearing last week, but camping was fun; Friday night was dry but chilly. (I was so cold that I found myself thinking "I can't die before I see "Breaking Dawn" Part 2! Or "Iron Man 3"! Etcetera…) Then it rained all day Saturday, so we ended up staying in a hotel that night, which was nice because I got to read a lot and spend time with family without feeling like I was going to die from staying out in the rain too long like the heroine in a 19th century novel. But, I digress.

This week's chapter is a quick one about Jasper enjoying one aspect of school life (in italics, you'll see some poetry by Edgar Allen Poe below, which is definitely his work and not mine), and next week, I plan to have two chapters ready for Sunday. Then, I'll have one ready for Halloween, and after that, I'm going to take a few days off to type my "Breaking Dawn" Part 2 series of updates. If you're new to "Eternity," then let me just warn you right now that every time a Twilight movie comes out, I like to post a chapter every day in the days prior to the movie's release. This year, I think I've got 12 chapters planned. So, I apologize in advance for flooding your inbox with updates, but I'm just about finished writing these chapters, and I think you'll really enjoy them. Thanks for all your great reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 24 DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! SO EXCITED! :)

_1959_: Writing

Jasper's POV

His throat had been burning all day, but it was almost three o'clock, and Jasper was determined to make it through the final hour of school. At the moment, he was trying to distract himself with poetry:

_ With speed that may not tire,_

_ And with pain that shall not part—_

_ Who livest—_that_ we know—_

_ In Eternity—we feel—_

_ But the shadow of whose brow_

_ What spirit shall reveal?_

Jasper wondered idly if Poe had been talking about vampires there. Flipping slowly through his book, he stopped on another page:

_And oh! Of all tortures_

That_ torture the worst_

_ Has abated—the terrible_

_ Torture of thirst _

Jasper cringed a little when he read that. He liked creative writing class fine, but sometimes, the feelings that words could evoke were a little too intense for his taste. Class was almost over, and Jasper was trying to figure out what to do for his first writing assignment. He could feel boredom radiating off of Emmett, who was sitting in the English class next door with Edward, but as someone who was new to high school after an almost century-long absence from any formal education, the novelty of homework was more than enough to hold Jasper's interest. Honestly, he was looking forward to this assignment; no one had ever told him to write a story before, so now, as the final bell rang, the question became what he should actually write about.

This was only Jasper's second semester of school, and though he'd had an English class before this one, that course had involved writing essays about books where it was usually easy to guess what the teacher wanted to read: "Paradise Lost" is about the perils of free will, Jane Austen's novels can be seen as reinforcing _and_ simultaneously subverting traditional roles for women in society, that sort of thing. But Jasper wasn't sure what a teacher would want from him in a fiction writing assignment.

"The trick is to keep things as banal as possible," Edward advised as they drove home from school that day. "Write about sports, or taking a girl on a date. As long as you don't write anything too strange or otherwise noticeable, you'll be fine. In my experience, creative writing teachers are just happy when students actually do their assignments without cheating."

"You can also write stuff that's so weird that the teacher won't dare mess with you," Emmett suggested. "I always write about aliens or superheroes or people going on crime sprees, and I always get A's."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Yes, because teachers are terrified of you _and_ your imagination, Emmett. Just write about something from your human life, Jasper. The teacher will think you're very _avant garde_ and creative if you spend a thousand words describing a living room or an apple orchard from your childhood."

"When I have that class next year, I'm planning to write about a trip to the fair," Alice said firmly. "That seems cute and unobjectionable enough, right?"

"You could write about your boyfriend winning a prize for you," Rosalie said. "I've written stories like that for classes before."

"Just don't go into too much detail about romantic stuff," Emmett said with a leer. "I got in trouble that way once."

"Wait, just how much detail did you go into?" Alice asked, raising her eyebrows at Rosalie's expression.

"He just wrote about a guy and a girl kissing, and he got sent to the principal's office," Rosalie said with a fond smile. "I thought it was very accurate, but our teacher at the time objected to the amount of detail."

Edward grimaced at whatever Emmett and Rosalie were thinking about, and Jasper smiled. If nothing else, now he had some idea of what _not_ to write.

When they got home, Jasper went looking for tips from Esme while Alice and Rosalie worked on their Home-Ec projects. Edward and Emmett, who were taking a different English class where they'd already read all the books, were outside playing football. He knew from his siblings' feelings on the subject that soon, the novelty of having homework assignments would wear off, but for now, Jasper enjoyed having a challenge that entailed more than simply not killing the humans he encountered each day.

"Well," Esme said, glancing out the window, "you could write a story about a mother who makes two of her sons spend all weekend repairing the damage they did to the family house _after playing football too close to it_!"

Jasper heard Emmett laughing outside. "Sorry, we'll back up!"

Esme sighed. "Let's at least let the paint dry before we break this house. Anyway, why not write about something that interests you, Jasper? I know that sounds obvious, but I think that as long as you like the subject you're writing about, once you get started, you'll be finished in no time."

Jasper smiled. "Actually, the trouble isn't that I can't think of a topic. I think my problem now is that I have too many ideas of what to write. I can't decide what would be best though—what would be interesting for me but won't draw too much attention?"

"Hmm," Esme said thoughtfully. "In that case, maybe write about something you'd like to have happen in the future, or something you wish had happened in the past. You can certainly write about you and Alice—just change the names and the identifying characteristics."

Jasper nodded slowly. "Okay. Thanks, Esme."

After very little deliberation, Jasper decided to write about what it might have been like to meet Alice when he'd been human. He changed the names, and left out all the supernatural elements as well as anything too overtly romantic (as he didn't want to repeat Emmett's experience of being sent to a principal's office), and soon, he was finished. The story he'd written wasn't too long or too strange or _too_ anything really, he hoped, but in any case, he'd had a good time writing it.

When he was done, Esme looked over his work (Alice and Rosalie were still working on their dish for Home-Ec—judging by the smoke he could smell emanating from the kitchen, one of Rosalie's experimental cooking techniques had gone awry). Esme smiled when she'd finished reading.

"I like it—not only because it's the sort of thing that won't attract undue attention, but because it's very well-written. I wrote something similar about me and Carlisle once, for a writing class."

Jasper raised his eyebrows. "Thanks. But, uh, when you say 'won't attract undue attention,' I have to ask—just how much trouble have Emmett's writing assignments caused in the past?"

Esme sighed, and outside, Emmett laughed again.

"Or maybe I don't really want to know," Jasper said with a smile, glad that he wasn't the only occasionally trouble-making member of the Cullen family.


	248. Recovered

Hi everyone! This week's first chapter deals with Esme's reaction to a startling discovery she makes while hunting. I was going to do this story over two weeks, but with "Breaking Dawn" so close now, I decided to give you both chapters this week. (So, in the next chapter, Carlisle and Esme will try to solve the mystery; overall, this and the next chapter are a bit depressing, but I was interested in exploring how Carlisle and Esme would deal with a difficult situation like this.) Thanks as always for your reviews and I'll see you again on Wednesday for a Halloween update! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 18 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! :)

_1972_: Recovered

Esme's POV

Staring down at the bones she'd just uncovered, Esme licked her lips, clearing tiny flecks of blood away from her mouth. She'd been burying her kill, a bull moose with antlers nearly as broad as she was tall, when she'd found the body, or rather, what was left of it. Clearly, the remains were human, hastily buried. Judging by what was left of the clothing surrounding the bones, it had been a woman, but immediately followed by that realization was a question: who had done this? And had the murderer been a human…or a vampire?

A cursory glance at the bones led Esme to believe that a human had been the killer, which was troubling, in the sense that it was possible that someone had gotten away with murder for years, perhaps decades. But Esme was glad too: after all, there was a chance that a human could be brought to justice for a crime like this. If a vampire had done this, there would be no justice for the dead woman, no truth or real closure for her family. Esme knew that from experience.

Esme shook her head and forced herself to look at the skeleton objectively—as an object, rather than a former person. Though the memories chilled her, Esme knew from having killed humans herself just how easily they broke when you were really thirsty…how quickly bones would snap and tissue tear when the smell and taste of blood filled your nose and mouth and overwhelmed every other sensation…

Though the skull of this woman had been crushed, it wasn't like any wound that Esme herself had ever dealt to a victim. When she'd killed in the past, the bones she'd crushed hadn't been broken so much as smashed to powder. She reluctantly recalled the time she'd killed a hunter—how she'd grabbed the man's head and chest and squeezed until his facial features and much of his body were damaged beyond recognition. The official story then had been that wild dogs had killed the man, but of course, animals rarely left their corpses completely drained of blood…

Looking at this body though, Esme saw no signs of trauma save for the head injury. If a vampire had killed this woman, there would have most likely been other wounds. Similarly, on the off chance that this unfortunate woman had gotten lost in the woods and actually devoured by wild animals, the body certainly wouldn't have been buried as a single unit; limbs would be missing, teeth marks apparent…no, animals killed efficiently, vampires even more so, but this woman had been killed by a single powerful blow to the back of the head.

In Esme's experience, nonhuman predators didn't make a point of sneaking up on their prey. If the woman had really died from this one injury, that suggested that the killer was more sophisticated than a wild animal but not nearly as strong as a vampire: namely, the murderer was a _homo_ _sapien_. The body was too old for much of a scent to remain, but Esme could detect very faint traces of old perfume, and cologne too. Yes, it seemed most likely that a human had done this.

Esme was convinced that her theory was correct, but now that she'd reached what seemed to be the obvious conclusion, she was eager to hear Carlisle's opinion on the subject. After all, he had a great deal more experience with traumatic injuries than she did. That…and she was abruptly eager to see him, to see the man who'd always known that she could be better than whatever monster had done this…who knew that she wasn't a killer anymore. Suddenly, Esme needed confirmation of that fact.

Hurrying home, she met Carlisle at the door just as he was returning from his shift.

"What is it?" he asked, brow creased with worry as soon as he registered her stricken expression. It was just the two of them out here— now that all of their children were, for the time being, home from college, they'd come to this cabin just outside of Thunder Bay to have some space all to themselves. At the moment though, Esme wished that they were a bit closer to town; seeing their children would have been another reminder that she wasn't a killer anymore, that she'd put all that behind her…

"In the woods," Esme managed at last, the feel of Carlisle's hands squeezing her shoulders calming her down a little. "It's—there's a body. It's very old, just bones now."

"Will you show me?" Carlisle asked, his expression regretful.

Esme nodded. She could have asked him to just follow her trail back to the body of the moose she'd killed, but she didn't want to be alone just then. It hurt, thinking of how she'd killed people like this woman before, but Esme was convinced that that part of her life was over; finding a corpse was no reason to feel wracked by guilt. She wasn't a killer now, and she wasn't going to allow her memories of past mistakes to control her. Still, she was grateful when Carlisle took her hand as they ran through the woods, stopping at the edge of the woman's shallow grave.

"Notice anything?" Esme whispered.

"…perfume," Carlisle said after a few moments. "And cologne. It's quite faint, but it's there."

"A lover's quarrel, maybe," Esme whispered. "Look at her head, Carlisle. No animal would do something so precise, and a vampire would have damaged her body much more severely."

"I agree," Carlisle said, looking away from the sad pile of bones to meet her eyes. "Do you want to try and find out who she was?"

"Yes," Esme said quickly, before she could change her mind. "Judging by her clothes, I'd say she's been here since the fifties, or maybe even earlier than that."

Carlisle nodded. "The town should be pretty quiet at this time of night. Let's go to the library and see what we can find about missing persons' cases from the past twenty years or so."

Esme smiled very slightly. "Normally, I wouldn't condone breaking into the library after hours, but under the circumstances, I guess I'll make an exception."

Carlisle released her hand and stepped forward to hug her tightly—he could tell when she was whistling in the dark. "We'll do what we can for her. Okay?"

"I know," Esme whispered. "But it won't ever be enough. Once a human's gone, they're gone forever, no matter how sorry you are, or how unfair it is. I know I ask you this every decade or so, but does knowing that ever stop hurting?"

He smiled sadly at that. "No. You're familiar with my opinion on the subject, anyway. I think it's always going to hurt, and that if we're to hold onto our humanity, maybe it has to. I know that keeping a part of ourselves human is worth the pain, but…some days it doesn't feel that way."

"No, it doesn't," Esme agreed, taking a deep breath. "But I'm glad I found her. She's been alone out here too long." _And I've recovered from my mistakes enough to face this_, Esme told herself fiercely. "Come on. Let's go find out who she might have been."


	249. Restored

Hi everyone! Today's second chapter concerns Carlisle and Esme trying to uncover the identity of the body that Esme found in the previous chapter. I work at a library, and our microfilm machines get used every day by people looking for dead people (obituaries specifically), but here's a quick tip: unless you are a vampire, never try to go through years worth of microfilm if you don't have a specific date you're looking for. I mean, you can…but if you're not a vampire, it's going to take you forever to take in so much information, and even then, you still might not find what you're looking for. I figure that Carlisle and Esme could do something like what happens below in a few hours, but for a human, it could take days, or longer. Anyway, that's my PSA for the day. Thanks for reading this extra chapter, and I'll see you again on Wednesday with a quick Halloween special. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 18 DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! SO EXCITED! :)

_1972_: Restored

Carlisle's POV

In the microfilm room at the Thunder Bay Public Library (they'd picked the lock on the window in the women's restroom to get it), Carlisle and Esme sat side by side for most of the night, both of their eyes scanning the screen of the microfilm reader as years and years worth of newspapers flashed by. The remains of the woman that Esme had found while hunting had been buried hastily, but there was no wallet or other means of identification on her person, and the depth (or lack thereof) of her grave convinced Carlisle that Esme was right. She had stumbled upon a murder.

The woman's clothes were nondescript, and there was nothing about her bone structure to suggest that she'd had any particularly noteworthy facial or physical features. It looked as though she'd simply been a woman of average height and average build. Her hair looked like it had been brown once, but Carlisle knew that the hair of the dead was very different from that of the living, particularly if a corpse was as old as this one. (Idly, he wondered how vampire hair managed to retain its strength and luster over centuries of life, but he knew he'd have to save that line of inquiry for another day.)

They'd had one bit of good luck though: pinned to the front of the woman's shirt was a circular gold-colored brooch, and set in the middle of it was a piece of red glass cut to resemble a ruby. Carlisle knew that such baubles weren't exactly uncommon, but he wondered if the brooch might help them identify the woman. Clearly, it had no monetary value, given its composition and the fact that it had been buried with her, but perhaps it might have sentimental value to the woman's relatives, assuming they might be discovered.

So far, they'd found several missing persons cases dating from the 1950s to the present, but all but a few had eventually been solved, and those that remained unsolved were either men or women not fitting the probable age of this woman. After a cursory examination of the bones, particularly her teeth, Carlisle had determined that the dead woman couldn't have been more than twenty, or at most twenty-five years of age. If she'd been older, her teeth would have shown more wear, and more would likely have been missing.

"What if she was only passing through town?" Esme whispered after several hours of fruitless searching. "There are lots of vacation cabins around here, and there are always a few tourists around, even when it gets cold. But even then, there should have been a story about a tourist going missing…"

"Let's go back to 1949 and see if we can't find something that year," Carlisle suggested. "We've got a couple more hours until dawn—let's dig a little deeper."

Esme agreed, so they changed the roll on the microfilm reader and began to read through 1949. When they reached July, there was no story about a missing person's case, but there was a picture that made Esme stop the machine.

"Look," she whispered, pointing at the photograph set in the center of the bottom half of a page: it was a human interest story. The photo showed a young woman sitting on a blanket with a man and another woman about the same age, all of them wearing bathing suits and smiling for the camera. Wadded up on the blanket in the background was a sweater, and pinned to the sweater…was a brooch that looked identical to the one in Carlisle's hand.

"It's the same," Carlisle said with a frown. "But what we can't know is how common this piece of jewelry was back then. You had pieces like this."

"Look, the caption gives their names," Esme said. "_Myrna Brennan, Doug Brennan, and Samantha Hayes of Kohler, Wisconsin, visiting Thunder Bay for a vacation with friends_. Myrna and Doug have wedding rings…"

"We might be looking for Samantha, the girl with the sweater just behind her," Carlisle said. "Kohler, Wisconsin…maybe there's something about a missing person in 1949 in their newspaper."

"Should we give the information we have to the police?" Esme asked. "Obviously, an anonymous tip might raise some suspicions, but since we'll be moving soon, maybe we ought to risk it."

"I think you're right," Carlisle said thoughtfully, looking at the brooch he held. "Rather than telling the police ourselves though, maybe we should have someone else tip them off."

Esme followed his eyes back to the screen showing the old newspaper story. "You think that Mr. and Mrs. Brennan might still live in Kohler?"

"It's worth taking a run down there, I think," Carlisle said. "If she was their friend, I'm sure they've always wondered what happened to her."

Esme nodded. "Well, maybe if we show them the beginning of the mystery, they'll be able to help find out how it ends."

The next night, they ran down to Kohler and broke into the public library there. (Carlisle decided to make sizable anonymous donations to this library and the one in Thunder Bay that year, if only to assuage his guilt a bit. It wasn't as though they were stealing anything, but still, maybe a donation would help both libraries purchase better locks for their windows.) After locating the records room there, they went through old newspapers until they found what they were looking for.

"Here it is," Carlisle said, pointing to the story in question. "_Local Woman Vanishes_."

"No wonder there was no story in the paper in Thunder Bay," Esme whispered. "It sounds like she left there with her friends and she didn't disappear until she was back in Kohler."

"But then someone brought the body back to Thunder Bay," Carlisle mused. "I suppose we might never know why."

"Or who's responsible," Esme said softly. She nodded at the brooch. "Should we take that to the Brennans?"

Carlisle agreed, and while he sought out a phone book in another part of the library, he left Esme to write a note to the missing woman's old friends. He gave her a few minutes alone for that task—Carlisle knew that finding this body had reminded her of the deaths she'd caused herself in the past, and though Carlisle had never blamed her for that, he'd learned long ago to respect her feelings on the matter. Much as he wanted to give in to his instinct to comfort her, he knew that it would be better to let her feel the guilt she still harbored and move on when she was ready.

"Carlisle," she called from the records room. He was standing next to her a second later.

"Here," she said, handing him the note she'd written. "What do you think?"

_ Dear Mr. and Mrs. Brennan,_

_ I am writing to you because I believe you knew someone named Samantha Hayes when you were young. In 1949, she went missing. I know that this will be hard to read, but I believe that I have found her remains buried just outside Thunder Bay, and foul play is suspected in her death. Due to circumstances beyond my control, my family is unable to become involved in any kind of police investigation. I thought that you should be aware of what I've found, however, so you can act as you see fit. The place where I discovered the body has been disturbed as little as possible: below, I have drawn a map if you wish to show this to the police. Also, I have taken the liberty of enclosing a piece of jewelry that belonged to the deceased with this letter. I wasn't sure if she had any surviving family that would find closure in such an item. Please do whatever you think is right._

_ Thank you, and I'm sorry._

"I couldn't think of anything else to say," Esme said, biting her lip. "Do you think it's all right?"

"I think it's fine," Carlisle said firmly. "In my experience, all you can do in an impossible situation like this is to be as honest and kind as you can. You've done that here, Esme. What happens next is up to them."

They went to the Brennans' house that night. Sure enough, a couple in their late fifties lived there—that much was clear from looking through their windows from a tree down the street just after sunrise. Kohler wasn't a terribly busy town, and at least the trees were thick enough to conceal two vampires and shield them from the sun. Carlisle and Esme waited until Mrs. Brennan, coming out to get the paper, discovered the package they'd left just inside the screen door.

"That's her," Esme whispered, and Carlisle nodded, thinking of the photo. "She's aged well. I wonder what they'll do next."

"Alice will keep us posted," Carlisle said. "Most likely, they'll go to the police, and then they'll see what they can get from the letter, evidence-wise."

"I suppose that technically, we'll be murder suspects for a while, leaving them that note and a piece of evidence."

Carlisle shrugged. "They won't know they're looking for us though. If we pack up and leave today, by the time the police come calling, we'll be long gone from Thunder Bay. No one knows we've been staying in that cabin, and we've been careful not to be seen around town." Ever since Jasper's last slip-up, the whole family had been laying low; they'd kept their belongings in Thunder Bay, but they'd been careful to do shopping and other leisure activities in neighboring towns. Carlisle had been working in Duluth for the past few months, and it would be easy enough for he and Esme to find a new house there. They'd have to go by aliases for a while though, just to be safe…

"I take it that you and Alice have already talked about dealing with the fallout from this," Esme said shrewdly, glancing at him.

"We spoke last night. She said we'd have clouds on our way home today."

Esme smiled. "Good. It'll be nice to get home, even if it won't be home after today."

"There are plenty of houses I think you'll enjoy fixing up in Duluth," Carlisle said, putting his arm around her. "I've been looking on my way home from work. Now I see why Alice suggested I work in Duluth during our stay in Thunder Bay."

"Well, then let's get going," Esme said, taking one last look at the Brennans' house. "Alice can tell us what happens next…"

In the end, the police discovered evidence that Samantha Hayes, aged 23, had eloped in 1949 with a man she'd met in Thunder Bay while on vacation. She'd told no one when she left town to meet him, ironically, in Duluth. They were married there, and it seemed that he'd killed her shortly after they returned to Thunder Bay; she'd taken a thousand dollars from her parents' house when she'd left home, and had probably told her fiancé in advance that she'd do so. Therefore, it seemed likely that he'd intended to rob and murder her all along. Or perhaps it had simply been a case of a con game that got out of hand.

"The husband died years ago though," Alice announced when she and Jasper visited a few months after Esme's grisly discovery. She'd been keeping an eye on things ever since; Jasper liked living in Wisconsin anyway, since most of the state was so rural and so close to Canada and its abundant supply of prey.

"No one noticed the two of you staying in that cabin—it was the off season, after all, and I guess the caretaker's a bit notorious for letting things slide, security-wise. Anyway, I'm afraid Samantha Hayes doesn't get much in the way of justice. Her husband was a decorated veteran of World War II, and the people who knew him later in life can't believe that he ever could have murdered his wife. He remarried after Samantha, had kids, and died a few years ago from a heart attack. So, the police's job is done."

"Thank you for telling us, Alice," Esme said, her voice grateful. "I'm sorry it turned out the way it did, but at least the people who knew Samantha know the truth now."

Carlisle squeezed her hand. They both knew how hard the truth could be sometimes, but Carlisle knew that if Esme had ended up like Samantha, she would have wanted people to know what had really happened to her, much as it might hurt. As it was, the people who'd known Esme in life had probably all died by now, and they'd never known where she'd vanished to. The same was true for all their family, so perhaps he was a bit biased on the subject, but if Carlisle had lost a friend, he'd rather know where they'd gone instead of being left to wonder, never knowing what had become of that person. It was painful, but Carlisle took Esme's view when it came to things like this: restoring someone lost, dead or alive, to their friends and loved ones was better than leaving them at the mercy of uncertainty.


	250. Carving

Happy Halloween, everybody! Originally, I was going to do a sort of creepy Halloween story, but I think that Sunday's chapters were probably creepy enough, so this is just some fluff. Thanks for your reviews, and I'll see you again on Saturday for the first of twelve "Breaking Dawn" updates. Also, since this marks the 250th chapter of "Eternity," I figure that this is as good a time as any to announce this: the last chapter of this series is going to be chapter 300. Obviously, that's still a ways in the future, but I figured I'd mention it today and thank everyone for reading as long as they have; please keep reading "Eternity" all the way to the end too. :) Thanks for your reviews and once again, Happy Halloween! (And on a related note, a few years ago, my dad carved a pumpkin like the one that Nessie makes in this chapter, and he was very proud of it. :))

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 15 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! SO EXCITED!

_2008_: Carving

Nessie's POV

Jamming her hand into the top of the pumpkin, Nessie carefully slipped her fingers around the top of the gourd, then pulled the top off by the stem when it was completely detached from the bottom. Then she reached inside and pulled out the mush of plant matter and seeds inside, and lobbed the whole mess at Uncle Emmett's head. He batted the missile aside and laughed. Grinning, Nessie went back to preparing to carve her pumpkin.

It was just after sunset, and the sky was a beautiful melange of pinks and purples and blues. It was almost Halloween, and Nessie was sitting with her family on the front porch of Grandma Esme and Grandpa Carlisle's house. It was a cool night, but they had no close neighbors, and though Mama had given her a jacket to wear and gloves she could put on if any humans happened by, Nessie doubted she'd need any props tonight. Humans, she was learning, tended to stay inside on nights like this, as the weather started to get cold. In the spring, they'd come out in weather like this because it would seem warm by comparison to months of snow, but in October, most humans were missing summer.

At the moment, her hands being covered in pumpkin mush, gloves and a coat would have just added to the mess, but Nessie was happily wearing a scarf that Grandma Esme had made her. Nessie liked scarves—Mama said they were practical, Aunt Alice said they were fashionable, and Nessie liked them because even though she didn't get cold, having a scarf wrapped around her was sort of a comforting feeling. Wearing a scarf that Grandma had made was a bit like hugging Grandma, even if she wasn't there.

"I know I don't need to tell you to be careful with this, since you will be, and it can't hurt you anyway, but still, please humor me," Grandpa Carlisle said, handing her a carving knife, "and be careful, all right?"

"I will, Grandpa," Nessie promised, smiling at him and using the tip of the knife to sketch out what she wanted to carve on her pumpkin.

"What kind of face are you going to make?" Grandma Esme asked.

Nessie concentrated on her drawing. "It's okay to not make a face, right? I was going to do a symbol instead."

"That's fine too,"Grandma Esme said, turning the pumpkin she held as she cut it. "I'm not actually making a face either."

"What are you making, Grandma?" Nessie asked.

In answer, Grandma Esme turned her pumpkin again to show Nessie what she'd cut: it was the outline of a bird in flight, and Grandma had shaved away part of the inside of the pumpkin and artfully scoured lines into the gourd so that now, when Grandma Esme placed a lit candle inside, it looked like the bird was flying between trees.

"Wow!" Nessie said admiringly. "That's really pretty!"

"Well, Grandma _is_ an artist. She's really good at these things," Grandpa pointed out, smiling sheepishly at his own pumpkin.

"Did you make a face, Grandpa?" Nessie noticed that Uncle Emmett and Aunt Rose had both made pumpkins with funny faces, while Aunt Alice had cut the outline of stylish sunglasses into hers and Uncle Jasper had carved a star into his. Mama and Papa, Nessie guessed, had made faces too, but they were inside at the moment, and she hadn't seen their pumpkins yet.

"I did," Grandpa said, turning the pumpkin in his hands to reveal a face with triangular eyes and nose and a jagged smiling mouth. "It's sort of a stereotypical design though, isn't it?"

"I'd say it's traditional," Grandma argued with a smile. "That suits your style, I think."

"Thank you for saying 'traditional' instead of old-fashioned," Grandpa said, smiling. Nessie watched Mama and Papa come back outside then. They'd gone to get more matches and candles, and Mama was also holding a mug of something in her hand.

"Don't worry, it's only one part apple cider," Mama said when Nessie hesitantly took the mug and stared into it. "I saved you some blood from the bobcat I had last week."

Nessie sipped at the warm liquid and smiled; Mama had clearly heated it in the microwave, and though there was a faint taste of apple, blood was the predominant flavor.

"Thanks, Mama," she said happily. "Jacob's always glad when he sees how much better I'm getting at eating human food."

Papa rolled his eyes. "We're all happy, honey. Keep practicing, and I bet you'll get even better."

"What kind of pumpkin are you making?" Mama asked. "I made one with the outline of a wolf, so Jacob's with us in spirit anyway, while he's off visiting his pack."

"I made a cat, so the Jacob pumpkin will have something to chase," Papa said, and Nessie laughed when Mama lightly smacked Papa on the arm.

"So, what have you been carving?" Mama asked, and Nessie, finished now, turned her pumpkin around, placed a candle inside, and lit it.

"Hey, that's pretty cool," Uncle Emmett said.

"I made a Batman pumpkin," Nessie explained, smiling at how clearly the symbol had turned out, "because he's like us. He always tries to be good, even when people think he's a bad guy."

"It's beautiful, honey," Mama said, giving Nessie a hug, and Nessie smiled. She loved moments like this with her family, and as holidays went, she had a special fondness for Halloween. Though not a huge fan of human food, Nessie did love candy.


	251. Imprinting

Hi everyone! Today marks the first of twelve daily updates to celebrate "Breaking Dawn" Part 2! :) (Did I say that the first update would be on Saturday? If so, I counted wrong, because _now_ BD2 is twelve days away.) This first chapter deals with Jacob and Carlisle going to talk to Sam after Jacob imprinted on Nessie; Bella just mentions this scene in passing in the book, so I thought it would be fun to write about in detail. :) This is a Jacob chapter, so as is usually the case, it ran long, but the other updates over the next couple of weeks will be shorter. Thanks for all your reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 12 DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! :)

_2006_: Imprinting

Jacob's POV

As soon as Nessie fell asleep that first night, I knew that I had to go looking for Sam. I was certain that as soon as I explained everything to him, the treaty would still stand, in spite of what Edward had done to Bella. I stood on the back porch, taking one more lingering look at the baby sleeping in Esme's arms, and then as I turned to phase and run for the forest, Carlisle appeared beside me.

"Edward tells me you're going to see Sam."

"Yeah," I said, "To talk about the treaty. Sorry, I didn't think about telling you. I've been…distracted."

Carlisle smiled a little. "So I've noticed."

I sighed awkwardly. "Thanks for…not tearing my head off. Or letting any of your children do that either. Believe me, this time yesterday, I never would have believed this could happen. Honestly, I would have probably been even more freaked out than anyone if I'd known in advance."

"But you're not now," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "Imprinting really is that sudden?"

"I took one look at her, and that was it," I said, shaking my head. "Before, I thought the whole thing seemed terrible, like a curse that trapped you and took away your free will. But now…it's like, I know why I'm here. It's like having something bigger than myself showing me where I need to go. It's not romantic at all. Even if she hated my guts, I'd always protect her. It's weirdly...freeing. Like my life doesn't belong to me any more, but instead of being a slave, it means I don't have to worry about the things I used to. Probably that makes no sense..."

Carlisle shrugged. "Since it isn't as though you can control it—and you're lucky Edward can hear that, by the way—there doesn't seem to be much point in getting upset. Of course, if it had been a voluntary action, Esme and I would both be a lot less understanding."

"Yeah, makes sense," I agreed. "I know she can probably hear me right now, so thanks again, to both of you, for…trying to accept the whole imprinting on your only grandchild…thing."

Carlisle's smile was a little more sympathetic now. "Jacob, clearly all of this is just as strange to you as it is to us. We're all going to need some time to adjust. We'll just have to wait and see how Bella reacts to what's happened."

I nodded. Bella, right. The reason I was out here—my best friend and former love. I really hoped that when she opened her eyes as a crazy newborn, she wouldn't kill me over the whole imprinting situation. I mean, I was pretty sure she'd try, and objectively, I could see that if I wasn't under the influence of ancient magic or whatever imprinting really was, I'd think that the whole thing of my being drawn to Nessie was creepy as hell, especially if I were the mom of the baby in question. Still, I was hoping that she wouldn't actually kill me—she'd probably regret it, eventually. Maybe.

"Shall we go?" he asked.

"Isn't Edward coming, to translate?"

"He won't leave Bella's side," Carlisle said, shaking his head. "I'm afraid that you and Sam will have to be human for this. That's why I'm coming alone—I don't want to antagonize him."

I thought about that—the other Cullens must not be thrilled about him venturing onto Sam's land with just me to protect him, but no one was trying to stop him either. I raised my eyebrows a little at that—clearly, the other leeches—fine, _Cullens_ (for Nessie's sake, I should probably tone down the name-calling)—trusted me with Carlisle's life. That was surprisingly encouraging.

"Okay," I said, hoping that Sam would be nice enough to stop and actually listen to me explain the baby situation. "You mind carrying my clothes then?"

Carlisle said he didn't, so I quickly undressed—not only was he a doctor, he'd seen me naked before when he'd set my bones after the fight with the newborns, so who even cared? Then I handed him my clothes before phasing, jumping off the porch and going from human to wolf in one fluid motion. Then we took off into the trees, and just a few minutes later, we were at the edge of Quileute land. Sam, who had obviously heard us coming, was waiting for us as a wolf.

_Sam? Crap, I wish this still worked…_

_ Jacob?_ I suddenly heard a surprised voice in my head. _Can you hear me?_

_Whoa! Yeah, I can hear you!_ I thought, wondering how the hell this was possible again. _Can you hear me too?_

Carlisle looked between us cautiously. "Jacob?"

_Hang on, I'm gonna phase so we can all talk_, I thought at Sam. I realized that my head was still mostly quiet—I could feel Seth and Leah out there, listening to what was going on, but I couldn't hear Sam's thoughts, and he couldn't hear mine…unless I wanted him to. When I thought something in his direction, apparently, we could still talk, but I didn't hear everything he thought, unless his mind was really a total blank right now, which seemed unlikely. That was…strange, but not a totally unwelcome development in our weird two pack world.

I phased quickly, then took my clothes from Carlisle and pulled on my shirt and shorts. It was sort of unnerving, how the smell of vampire barely even registered as unpleasant anymore. Sam stepped behind some bushes and was soon human again too, dressed in the tattered shorts he'd had strapped to his leg as a wolf. Too late, I realized that this was the first time we'd been face to face since I'd left his pack. We nodded at each other, and I wondered if I looked as tense as he did.

"So, I guess we can hear each other as wolves again, if we really want to be heard," I said finally.

Sam nodded. "That seems to be the case. So…why are you here, Jacob?"

"We need to talk about the treaty," I said.

Sam glanced suspiciously at Carlisle. "Are you here to ask for permission to change Bella, or is she even still alive? And what about that…_thing_ she was carrying?"

I ground my teeth together, abruptly having to suppress a snarl. Even though I'd felt the same way just a few hours ago, I couldn't stand the hatred in Sam's voice when he called Renesmee a 'thing.' Luckily, Carlisle could still talk, since I was too busy trying to calm myself down to speak.

"The baby's name is Renesmee," Carlisle said, and for a moment, Sam looked stricken. "And Jacob's imprinted on her."

Sam stiffened and looked at me, clearly shocked.

"She's not what we thought she'd be," I said quickly, my shaking with rage having mostly died down. "She's not dangerous at all—Nessie's the opposite of the demon we were all expecting. She's not even venomous, Sam. Yeah, she's stronger than a human kid, but I'm pretty sure we don't have to worry about her going on a killing spree anytime soon—she doesn't even need to drink blood." For now, I decided to leave out the part about Nessie _preferring_ blood to human food.

Sam nodded slowly, looking somewhat relieved. Clearly, my devotion to Nessie was so obvious in my voice and expression that he didn't even question the imprinting thing. Sam was looking at Carlisle now though. "Has anything like this happened before?"

"Not that we know of, but we've been doing research, trying to find similar cases," Carlisle said. "As soon as we learn anything concrete about half-vampire children, we'll let you know."

"All right," Sam said. "We'll stop worrying about the baby then. But now…Bella. Is she still human?"

"Yes, but not for much longer," Carlisle said gently.

"She was going to die, Sam!" I said when I saw him freeze, anger and suspicion warring with a desire to hear me out—maybe to hear Carlisle out too. "And as an Alpha, I gave Edward permission to change her."

Sam's face relaxed a bit then, though he still didn't look very happy. "So technically, the treaty still stands?"

"We'd like it to, Sam," Carlisle said. "My family only wants peace with yours."

I somehow managed to suppress a snort. Carlisle, Esme, and Edward might want peace, and even Alice and I were kind of friends now, but I didn't think the other three vampires would be all that broken up about it if we ended up as enemies again at some future date.

Sam nodded slowly. "Have you and your family accepted the presence of Jacob's pack on your land then? Now that he's imprinted, you're going to be seeing a lot of each other."

I glanced at Carlisle and saw him smile. "My family is…adjusting to the news of Jacob's situation. Renesmee's father isn't thrilled, but he's coping, mostly because he can hear Jacob's sincerity and knows that his intentions are only honorable. We have yet to see what Bella's reaction will be, however."

I rolled my eyes. "It's fine. Sam, Dr. Fang here won't let Bella tear me in half if she takes the imprinting news badly, and if she does, he'll put me back together. We get along fine, and Seth likes the Cullens too."

"And Leah…" Sam prompted meaningfully.

"Is dealing with it," I said. "I really think she'll put up with the Cullens as long as she can stay."

—_out of your head_, I thought but didn't say.

Sam nodded, his expression serious. "Okay. I'll talk to the elders, but my take on this is that the treaty stands, and you and your pack are welcome back in La Push, Jacob."

"Thanks, Sam," I said, hoping that Billy would be too glad to see me to kill me whenever I finally went home for a visit.

"Thank you," Carlisle said with feeling. "We'll be in touch, Sam."

Sam turned to go, and a few seconds later, he was a wolf again, and I could hear the sounds of his pack processing the news of our meeting. Quil and Embry's happy howls in particular I recognized, and I smiled at the thought of seeing them again—maybe now that things had settled down, they'd even join my pack. Carlisle took my clothes again when I handed them over, and as soon as I'd phased, I reached out with my mind.

_Sam? I just wanted to say thanks again, and…I'm glad we're talking again._

…_likewise, Jacob_, he replied, and I wanted to tell him that I finally understood, now that it had happened to me, how imprinting turned your whole world upside down, but somehow, you didn't resent what had happened to you—instead, you embraced it, even when you were like me, so certain that you hated the whole concept. It was a weird, impossible situation, but it didn't seem like a curse anymore; it seemed like a blessing. But that seemed like a conversation for another day. All I wanted now was to get back to Nessie.


	252. Fatherhood

Hi everyone! Today's chapter deals with Carlisle and Esme spending some time with their granddaughter and contemplating Edward's status as a new father. While I do think that Edward would be a pretty good dad, I've always thought that it's too bad that he can read her thoughts even when she isn't sharing them intentionally. I mean, can you imagine having your dad able to read your thoughts? Ugh. (Maybe, for the sake of her sanity and his, Edward will give Nessie a wide berth when she becomes a teenager…) Thanks for your reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 11 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! :)

_2006_: Fatherhood

Carlisle's POV

Renesmee was just a few hours old the first time that Carlisle measured her. She was an average-sized infant, albeit on the large side of the average, and she didn't look like any newborn that Carlisle had ever seen: her eyes were too focused, her facial expressions too precise, and her movements too graceful to be those of a human child. And when people spoke to her, she really did seem to understand.

Rosalie was hovering nearby as Carlisle took the tape measure and held it from the top of the baby's head to the bottom of her feet.

"Rose, we're going hunting," Emmett called. "Come on, the sooner we leave, the sooner you can get back and stare at the baby some more!"

Rosalie scowled and Carlisle chuckled. "He's right, Rose. You've been thirsty for weeks. Esme and I will watch Renesmee while you're gone, then we'll take a turn at hunting when you get back. All right?"

Glancing down at Renesmee, who seemed to smile reassuringly up at her, Rosalie nodded tersely. "I'll be back soon. Don't let the dog near her, okay?"

"I won't leave _Jacob_ alone with her, but only because he's unfamiliar with caring for infants. Don't worry," Carlisle said, not adding that he didn't see Jacob as any threat to Renesmee; quite the opposite, in fact, given the way that he looked at her like she was the most amazing creature on earth. He and Rosalie actually had that in common, though Rosalie refused to see it.

"I'll be back soon," Rosalie said again, leaning down to give Renesmee a quick kiss. Renesmee smiled and touched Rose's face, and Rosalie smiled too, clearly appeased by whatever her niece had shown her. Then she hurried out the door to meet her siblings.

When they were alone, Carlisle picked up Renesmee and carried her to the window so she could watch her aunts and uncles run into the forest. Esme joined him then; she'd been in his office-turned surgery, checking in on Edward and Bella, and now they stood watching their granddaughter, who was gazing serenely around the living room, as though she were politely waiting for something.

"I can still hardly believe she's real," Esme whispered, reaching out and stroking the baby's soft hair. Carlisle leaned against Esme so that Renesmee was touching both of them, her body cradled by Carlisle's arms between them.

"Are you warm enough, sweetheart?" Esme asked.

Renesmee inclined her head slightly and smiled.

"I can still hardly believe that _that's_ real," Carlisle said, grinning down at the little girl in his arms. "You're amazing, honey. And you know it too, don't you?"

Renesmee grinned back at him, her teeth far sharper than those of any human baby.

Esme laughed. "Just don't get a big head, okay sweetie? Even if you are the most amazing little girl I've ever met, and as our only grandchild, bound to be spoiled rotten anyway, we're still going to have to keep you a secret from most people."

Renesmee reached up and touched Carlisle's face then. An image of Jacob appeared, and Renesmee stared up at him, looking worried.

"Don't worry," Carlisle said with a chuckle. "Though your Aunt Rose might like that, it's too late to keep you a secret from Jacob. No, grandma means we'll have to keep you a secret from humans."

Esme positively giggled at being called 'grandma.' "Your _grandpa_ is obviously right. Do you understand the differences between the people in our family and humans?"

Renesmee frowned and looked puzzled.

"I can't believe I just asked a newborn that," Esme murmured, and Carlisle chuckled.

"Your mother was human, but now she's becoming like us. That's where your father is now. He's waiting for her to wake up."

Renesmee still looked a bit confused. She touched Esme's face first, then Carlisle's: in his head, there was suddenly an image of Bella, then Edward, looking just as they had right after Renesmee was born.

"I think she's asking us what they're like," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "Well, I haven't known your mother for very long, but she's very brave, and very smart, or smarter than I was, regarding you."

"And very loving," Esme added. "She loved you long before the rest of us could even imagine you. And your father…well, we've known him a long time. I can't imagine a better person than him. Well, your grandfather, I suppose, but your father's a close second."

Carlisle smiled. "Edward was the first person to make the name Cullen the name of our family, as opposed to just my name alone. It was only the two of us at first, and though he wasn't always happy in this life, I've always been happy to know him. And I know he'll be a wonderful father to you."

Renesmee smiled up at him, and Carlisle smiled too as Esme slipped her arm around him and kissed him lightly. "Edward learned from the best."

Carlisle chuckled. "I wouldn't say that I'm the best by any means. But after being a husband, being a father, and now a grandfather, is the best job I've ever had."


	253. Blessing

Hi again! (Sorry for the late update; I've been watching election stuff. :)) Today's chapter focuses on Esme spending some time with Rosalie, Alice, and Nessie while Bella's still transforming. Quick aside: it's never really explained what, if any, bodily functions that Nessie has—I mean, she eats, but with all vampires, the question becomes, for me, how do their bodies process blood? Does venom just burn away whatever they can't use for fuel? And if so, how does Nessie digest food without venom? We never hear about her needing to use the bathroom or anything though…so basically, who the heck knows? This chapter certainly doesn't answer those questions, but I just thought I'd mention them in passing. :) Anyway, thanks again for your reviews, and I will see you once again tomorrow!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 9 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! (Yeah, I was a day off before, since you can see the movie on Thursday night at 10pm in many theaters, including my local theater. :) Do you have your ticket yet? Also, who's excited for "The Mortal Instruments" teaser trailer before BD2? And "The Host" trailer? I know I am. :))

_2006_: Blessing

Esme's POV

Though Rosalie had bathed her right after she'd been born, Esme decided that when Renesmee was a day old, it was time for another bath. Renesmee seemed perfectly able to manage bodily functions, which was to say that unlike with other infants, there was no spit-up or dirty diapers to deal with—and thanks to her unusual talent, Renesmee could inform anyone within reach that she was hungry without having to resort to wailing or fussing.

Still, Esme thought that baths were important; it was, she supposed, an irrational urge leftover from her human days and her very brief time as a mother. She'd never been able to give her son a proper bath, so maybe there was something about this ritual that made Esme feel that everything was really okay—that Renesmee was healthy and whole, and that they weren't going to lose her. Rosalie agreed that baths were a good idea, simply on the grounds that Renesmee seemed highly entertained by bubble bath.

So, they took her to Alice's cavernous bathroom and washed her in the sink, where she happily slapped at bubbles as they floated up and into the air around her.

"Okay," Alice said, snapping another picture. "I don't think that this is ever going to _not_ be adorable."

"Agreed," Rosalie said, smiling as Renesmee lifted some bubbles into her hair.

Esme laughed as Renesmee offered her a handful of bubbles. "She really is growing fast. You're already bigger than you were this morning, Renesmee, though I suppose that's true of all babies."

"With her, it's just a bit more obvious," Alice agreed, and then she was silent for a moment. "I wonder how much longer she's going to keep growing like this. I can't see her future, after all."

"Who knows?" Rosalie said, sounding unconcerned. "Now that she isn't inside of Bella anymore, she can grow as fast as she'd like."

"I've wondered about that too, Alice," Esme said thoughtfully, reaching out and touching Renesmee's tiny forehead. Renesmee smiled and reached out her own hand, and Esme leaned down so that the baby could touch her face. In an instant, Esme saw memories of bubbles floating through the air, their delicacy and iridescence seeming transcendentally beautiful through the eyes of a newborn. Esme smiled, knowing that if she could, she'd be crying now.

"I don't suppose it will do any good now to worry about what we can't control," Esme said softly. "We're just going to have to wait and see what happens. The more she grows, the more we'll learn about Renesmee, and the better we'll be able to take care of her."

"Exactly," Rosalie said, carefully rinsing the baby's hair. "Although I think we're doing a fine job so far without having any experience to go on."

Alice frowned. "I guess it just bothers me, not being able to see her. At least my headache's gone though."

"That's something, anyway," Esme agreed, smoothing down Renesmee's hair.

"She's going to need more clothes soon," Rosalie said, gently toweling off Renesmee. "Alice, I'll need your help with that. I've come to care for Bella over the past few weeks, but no niece of mine is going to dress the way she does."

Alice laughed. "Agreed. We'll spare you from a life of indifference to fashion, Renesmee."

The baby giggled and everyone smiled; smiling seemed infectious when you were around Renesmee. Esme, like the rest of the family, was relieved that Bella would soon be one of them, that the peace with the wolves was intact, at least for now, and that the new addition to their family was apparently not the blood-crazed monster they'd feared she might be. But relief was rapidly giving way to joy now that it was clear that Bella had been right all along: the baby really was a gift, a miracle, a wonderful little girl who you couldn't help but fall in love with. Still, as Esme and Rosalie got Renesmee dressed, Esme couldn't help but worry as she looked at her granddaughter. After all, her life would never be that of a human child's.

Already it was clear that Renesmee was more immortal than mortal, and though in some ways that was comforting (her being so much stronger than a human infant certainly reassured Esme, who'd been anxious from the start about reliving the terror of her son's sudden illness and death), it was troubling too. Renesmee might never be able to have friends her own age, or to have any friends that weren't vampires or werewolves. There was no telling how fast she would grow or how long her life would be, and in a way, Esme pitied the little girl now staring up at her aunts, because there was no telling what sort of life she would lead. Was Renesmee really the only creature of her kind? And could she find a way to be happy if the uniqueness that made her so special to her family left her feeling lonely, as isolated as the first of any new species must?

Then Renesmee turned and smiled at her, and Esme couldn't help but smile in return. Regardless of the possibility of future trials in little Renesmee's life, it was hard to feel anything but grateful for her granddaughter. Her future was impossible to predict, but when Esme saw the happiness on the faces of her children, and on Carlisle's face every time he held Renesmee, Esme knew that the baby was a blessing. The challenge from now on would be giving her all the care she needed; much easier would be giving her all the love she deserved.


	254. Motherhood

Happy Wednesday, everybody! Today's chapter deals with Rosalie and Esme's thoughts on Bella's becoming a mother. I read a "Twilight" blog where the author has mentioned this issue more than once, so I decided to explore it. (It seems to me that even if Bella were to apologize to Rosalie for putting her in such an emotionally trying position, Rosalie wouldn't really be thrilled about such an apology…) Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you yet again tomorrow!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 8 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! :)

_2006_: Motherhood

Rosalie's POV

While watching Nessie as the little girl slept peacefully in her arms, Rosalie couldn't help but smile as she thought of Bella, enjoying her birthday present with Edward. (She hated that dog-boy had come up with her niece's new nickname, but she had to admit that it was a good one.) It was strange to think of how recently she'd disliked Bella, how certain she'd been that her new sister-in-law was making a terrible mistake. Now, seeing Nessie, being able to hold her and being a part of her life, Rosalie thought that she'd never been happier to be proven wrong about something.

"I'm glad that they're getting some private time to enjoy their new home," Esme murmured, coming to stand beside her. Rosalie grinned. Esme was looking just a bit smug about how much Bella liked the cottage (according to Alice).

"Thinking about your first night alone with Carlisle?" Rosalie said archly.

"You know I am, because you're doubtless thinking about your first night alone with Emmett," Esme said, raising her eyebrows. "I must say though, I'm very glad that I wasn't human on our wedding night. Edward and Bella were very lucky that nothing went wrong then..."

"Of course, for a while, you all thought that something _had_ gone wrong," Rosalie pointed out. "I'll always be grateful that Bella thought to call me when she did."

"Things are still going to be okay between you two, aren't they?" Esme asked.

Rosalie nodded. "I expected this to be harder. To be jealous, I mean, But...I'm not. Well, all right, I am. But I still like Bella. I still feel like we're friends now. Do you think envy and friendship can coexist in a situation like this?"

Esme nodded. "I think so. It's hard, seeing someone else get the very thing you want most. But you're right. I could never begrudge Bella this happiness. If anything, I'm glad that she doesn't have to miss out on being a mother, even if that wasn't an experience she thought she would miss when her human life was over."

"I'm glad she was wrong, about not wanting to be a mom," Rosalie said quietly, "and I'm pleasantly surprised to find that I think she's going to do a good job."

Esme chuckled. "You didn't think she would?"

Rosalie shrugged. "Well, I wasn't sure. When she told me that she had no interest in having children, I just assumed that it was never going to come up anyway. Girls Bella's age aren't necessarily raised the way we were, expecting to get married and have kids someday. Anyway, I suppose most people don't know much about being mothers until they have kids, and then they have to figure things out as they go along."

"I can attest to that, even though I wanted to be a mother even when it was just an abstract concept," Esme said, squeezing Rosalie's hand. "It's definitely something you never feel prepared for. I suppose that becoming an aunt or a grandmother is similar though, in our case at least."

Rosalie sighed. It was difficult to be gracious about Bella getting to be a mother when she hadn't even thought she'd wanted to be one, while Rosalie and Esme, who had wanted that very thing for decades, could never have children of their own. It wasn't fair. But Rosalie hadn't thought of life as being fair for a long time.

"She tried to apologize to me, you know," Rosalie said softly, not wanting to wake Nessie. "When she and Edward first came back, and the rest of you were out of the room, debating possible methods of getting us to 'listen to reason' as Edward put it. She said, I and quote, that she was 'sorry for asking for help with this,' and she wondered if I really didn't mind helping her, when she hadn't even thought that she wanted a baby."

"And what did you say to that?' Esme asked.

Rosalie smiled wryly at herself. "I thanked her for considering my feelings...and then I told her to shut up if she was just going to say stupid things. It's not like she got pregnant to spite me, and just because I can't have a baby didn't mean that I didn't want her having one. So I told her not to try apologizing to me again, or else I'd give the baby some kind of horribly cutesie nickname."

Esme laughed. "Jacob beat you to the punch on that."

Rosalie shrugged ruefully. "Nessie isn't bad, as nicknames go. I mean, it's catchy anyway. I'll give the dog this much: he isn't terrible at nicknames."

Esme smiled, and smoothed back a stray lock of Nessie's hair that had been hanging over her forehead. "There's a saying I like, and that I try to remember when I'm feeling jealous of anyone: 'just because someone else has good fortune doesn't mean that there's any less to go around for you.' Of course we'll never have the same good fortune that Bella's had, but I don't want her feeling guilty for having what we don't. What would be the point in that?"

"You know, she's not nearly as fragile as she used to be," Rosalie said thoughtfully. "If she ever tries to apologize to me again for all this, I promise you that I'm going to try and nail her in the head with the closest heavy object I can find."

Esme frowned. "Not in front of Nessie. We don't want to teach her that you can solve problems by throwing things."

Rosalie laughed at that, then rocked Nessie gently when she stirred a little at the sound.

"Your mom and dad will be back in a few hours," Esme promised, leaning down to kiss her granddaughter. Apparently Esme, like Rosalie, couldn't go more than a few minutes without hugging or kissing the little girl.

"They'll be back, assuming they can find a way to keep their hands off each other during daylight hours," Rosalie said with a snicker.

Esme giggled. "Please don't say things like that when Nessie's awake. Do you really want to have to explain the birds and the bees to a newborn?"

"No," Rosalie said with a grin. "I'll leave that to her mom."


	255. Preparations

Hi everyone! Today's chapter jumps ahead in the storyline of "Breaking Dawn" and takes place just after Alice and Jasper leave. Rereading the book, I liked how Emmett was the one who actually suggested that they try to find some allies, and initially, no one was thrilled with this plan, but Esme at least thought it was an idea worth trying. Thanks for your reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 7 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! THIS TIME NEXT WEEK, WE'LL BE WATCHING IT! :)

_2006_: Preparations

Emmett's POV

After the initial shock of Alice and Jasper's departure had faded a bit, everyone began to move very quickly. There was a lot to do and not much time to do it in—Emmett had always enjoyed traveling, but where he and Rose went and what they did there had never been as important as it was today. And even if they found people to stand with them, could they really stop a fight? Emmett knew that that was the goal, but he couldn't deny that there were more than a few members of the Volturi he wouldn't mind tearing to shreds…

While Rose changed clothes, Emmett joined Carlisle and Esme downstairs—Emmett knew from experience when Rose wanted to be comforted and when she wanted a moment to herself to process her emotions and collect herself for whatever came next. Carlisle and Esme were standing close together beside the sofa, holding hands and talking quietly. Given the intense way they were staring at each other, Emmett sort of hated to interrupt, but he was too geared up to just stand around doing nothing.

"Thanks for agreeing to try my idea," he said, nodding at his parents. "I mean, I know it's kind of a long shot, but it's better than nothing."

"Exactly," Esme said, reaching out and patting Emmett's arm. "We have to do what we can, and this is the best chance we've got."

Emmett smiled. Esme and Carlisle were the only people who hadn't looked like they were about to bite his head off when he'd first suggested they ask friends to come to their aid, but then again, neither of them was really the head-biting type. It wasn't like he felt good about the possibility of getting other covens killed, but if there was any chance that they could even the odds against the Volturi and defend their family, then they had to at least try.

Emmett knew that unlike him, his parents were trying not to think in terms of preparing for a fight; to them, gathering witnesses meant a chance to prevent a costly battle, but Emmett wasn't so optimistic. Until earlier that year, he'd never even met any of the Volturi, but from everything he'd heard about Aro's freaky penchant for collecting talented vampires, and given their actions now, it definitely seemed like they were spoiling for a fight. And Emmett was determined to give them one, no matter how impossible the odds were.

"We'll need you and Rosalie to look for nomads," Carlisle said, nodding at the globe sitting on a nearby table in the living room. "Head east and then north—you may have to do some searching."

"Where are you two going?" Rosalie asked, joining them in a new, more durable outfit. Almost unconsciously, Emmett took her hand and held it tightly.

"Ireland, then Egypt, and then we're going to swing back to England to look for Alistair," Carlisle said. "I think we can convince Siobhan to come, but Amun's another story."

"You guys have been friends for a long time," Emmett said skeptically. "Why would he have a problem just coming here and supporting us?"

"We both know it could turn into much more than that," Carlisle said quietly. "But mostly, I think he'll be reluctant to come because of Benjamin. Amun's hidden him from the Volturi for a long time."

"Why though, if the guy's so powerful?" Emmett wondered. "If they tried to take him by force, couldn't he fight them off?"

"Even Benjamin's no match for Alec and Jane," Carlisle said grimly. "Amun's been protecting him for the same reason that I never wanted Edward or Alice to go to Volterra. I don't want to believe that Aro would try to steal members from other covens outright, but…he'd be tempted, if he saw what Benjamin can do. And no one wants someone as powerful as Aro to covet a member of their family."

"So the Denalis are on their way," Rosalie said, looking thoughtful. "With the Egyptians, the Irish, a few nomads, and whoever else we can get to show up, let alone stay, we might have, what? Ten witnesses? A dozen?"

"If we're very lucky," Carlisle said quietly.

"And who's to say we won't be?" Esme said gently, touching his face. "You've been around a lot longer than the rest of us, and you've made a lot of friends. You'd do the same for them, if they asked, so why shouldn't they help us, if only for your sake?"

"Yeah!" Emmett said, smacking Carlisle gently on the arm. "We may be weirdoes to the rest of the vampire world, but people like you at least. So they'd better come help the first time in maybe centuries you ask for a favor."

Carlisle smiled slightly. "I hope you're right."

"Of course he is," Rosalie said, smiling at Emmett."I didn't marry him just for his looks. You and Esme together are plenty charming enough to compensate for the rest of us, Carlisle, and if anyone can convince witnesses to come, it's you two."

Esme smiled a little at that. "Thank you, Rose. We'll do our best."

And for a moment, things seemed almost normal—of course they were anything but, but at least a slight feeling of hope had entered the room again. Emmett moved closer to Rosalie, and she tightened her grip on his hand. They were still alive, and Emmett was determined that they were going to find a way to get through this, no matter what it took. She'd saved his life once; maybe he was finally going to get a chance to return the favor. Just then, everyone heard the sound of Edward, Bella, Nessie, and wolf-boy approaching. It was time to get ready to go.


	256. Loyalty

Hi everyone! Today's chapter deals with Edward's observations as vampires gather to witness for the Cullens. One thing I've heard a lot about this part of "Breaking Dawn" is how it's a bit sad that almost all the vampires who come only really know Carlisle; Jasper has a few friends too, but other than him, the other Cullens don't seem to have many friends. I just take this as being a vampire thing; for the most part, they're just not a friend-making sort of species, though if a vampire lives long enough (like Carlisle), they might acquire acquaintances who could turn into friends. Anyway, I just think that this phenomenon would be especially interesting for Edward to observe, since he'd be able to listen in on the guests' true motivations for coming to help the Cullens. Thanks once again for all your great reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 6 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! :)

_2006_: Loyalty

Edward's POV

For days, I'd watched the house fill up with Carlisle's friends, and though some were more familiar than others, as their numbers grew, I couldn't help but be impressed. Vampires are not, by nature, creatures who have a lot of close relationships, if we have any at all. Those who feed on human blood in particular see each other as rivals, not potential friends, no matter how much distance might separate their territories. Yet in spite of the obvious difference between his diet and that of the other immortals in our home, over three centuries or so, Carlisle had managed to build and maintain a surprising number of friendships. I knew that initially, the secret world of immortals had viewed Carlisle as little more than a freak or a potential source of entertainment. Now, in spite of that old prejudice, he had friends who were willing to risk their lives for our family, but mostly just for my father.

"It's sort of amazing, isn't it?" Esme said quietly, coming to stand beside me while Carlisle spoke to the Egyptians about something. So far, Esme had stayed close to him—we were all watching Carlisle carefully, if only because it was a little unnerving to have strangers in the house, and even worse to have the leader of our family surrounded by unfamiliar vampires. But Esme had gradually relaxed and so had I; it was clear that though some of our witnesses could care less about Renesmee, I could hear from their thoughts that they cared about Carlisle.

As his mate, Esme was treated politely, but after her initial introduction, it was clear that they had little interest in socializing with Esme, and the feeling was mostly mutual. Carlisle's friends were from one part of his life, and Esme and the rest of us were part of another. Perhaps if we immortals didn't get so set in our ways, it would be easier to forge closer friendships more quickly, but as it was, I knew that in spite of the gratitude I felt toward them, I would have to know all of these people for a great many more years before I really considered them friends.

I nodded tersely. "I'm glad they're here, but I wonder how much it'll really matter, when the time comes."

Esme sighed. "Yes, that is the question, isn't it? Just seeing all these people here though, seeing all the friends that Carlisle's made over the years, gives me a little hope. After all, Carlisle and Aro were once friends too. Maybe he'll reconsider when he gets here, and sees so many ready to declare our innocence. Maybe the Volturi aren't really abusing their power as badly as we fear."

I frowned. "You don't really believe that. I can hear it."

Esme sighed again. "No. But I'd like to."

We continued to watch the gathering for a few moments; Bella and Jacob had taken Renesmee to visit Charlie, so all the visiting vampires were commenting on the improved odor of the house in general with no wolves present. Carlisle seemed willing enough to converse with our guests and generally keep them entertained, but I could hear from his thoughts that he was looking forward to having the house contain just our family again. He would be happiest when all this was over and he could just go back to being a husband and father and grandfather again—he didn't particularly relish his newfound role of revolutionary leader, given that he hadn't intended to start a revolution at all, and since our so-called transgression against the Volturi's laws wasn't really anything of the sort.

I smiled a little sadly when I heard Carlisle then. Already, he was thinking about _after_ the fight, as if our lives could ever return to normal after all this. Like Esme, he had hope; neither of them had much, but they had more than I did, weak and unjustified though it might be. Perhaps it was because Carlisle had had to wait so long to have a family, and now that he had one, the change from solitude to love and companionship seemed too permanent to destroy. We'd all been together for so many decades now that he couldn't imagine really losing us in just a few short weeks.

For my part, Bella and Nessie were both still so new to me, their very existence so miraculous, that losing them seemed horribly plausible. Maybe it was only fair—a creature like me could never hope to deserve the extraordinary blessings of a wife and child like mine. A part of me, cold with dread and pain, was already resigned to our collective fate…but I would not lose my family, not really. I would die for them first.

"Edward," Esme said quietly, perhaps noticing my bleak expression. Reaching out to me, she squeezed my hand.

"It's okay," she whispered. "We're all still here. Nothing's set in stone yet. We still have a chance."

I smiled weakly. "Thanks, Mom. You're right—we've still got time."

I couldn't believe that there was really much reason for hope now, but I would try, for my family's sake, not to give in to despair. I would enjoy the time that I had left with them, and then, when the time came for the battle to begin, Demetri would be my target. I would not allow the remnants of my family to be hunted to the ends of the earth.

Whatever Bella was up to (and I suspected that today's excursion involved more than a desire to see her father), maybe together, we could keep our daughter safe. If we couldn't save our own lives, then wasn't it just possible that if we died fighting, we could cripple the Volturi enough to give Renesmee a chance? It was a long shot, certainly, but it was all I dared hope for, and even that dream for Nessie—a sad dream indeed, to grow up without her family—seemed unlikely.

Still, the loyalty that Carlisle inspired in his friends was nothing compared to the bonds of love that united our family. We would fight when the time came, and we would probably all die in the hope of preserving one another, though I hoped more than anything that, if there were any of us left after this, I wouldn't be one of them; not without my Bella or our little Nessie. And though we would lose, I was determined that the Volturi wouldn't win. If we couldn't defeat them, then we could at least seek to decimate their numbers enough to give the surviving Cullens a chance. The loyalty of our friends, and our loyalty to each other, was worth at least that much.


	257. Solidarity

Hi everybody! Today's chapter is another one where I think the premise is interesting: Bella tries to apologize to Carlisle and Esme for completely turning their lives upside down. I feel like she probably felt a lot of guilt in "Breaking Dawn," even if this isn't something we ever read about in detail, because…come on. If you married your true love, had a kid…and then found out that doing so was inadvertently going to get you and all of your in-laws killed, I'd feel pretty bad about that. As Carlisle and Esme point out below though, Bella isn't really to blame—the Volturi are. (People seem to blame pretty much everything on Bella though…I don't know, I just get tired of all the Bella hate…) Thanks for your reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 5 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! I'M REALLY QUITE EXCITED! :)

_2006_: Solidarity

Bella's POV

During a break from practicing fighting one day (Emmett, apparently still stinging from his recent defeat at my hand, had challenged some of our guests to an arm wrestling competition), I went looking for Carlisle and Esme. I found them sitting on the back porch, practically alone for the first time in days, keeping an eye on Renesmee while she walked with the Amazons by the river, Jacob just behind them. I felt sort of bad for interrupting—they were holding hands, not speaking but sitting close together, and with so many other vampires in the house, I knew that private moments were hard to come by. Still, there was something I needed to say while both Nessie and Edward (who was off hunting with the Denalis at the moment) were out of earshot.

"Hi," I said awkwardly, hopping up onto the porch.

They both smiled, which made me feel even worse about all I had to apologize for.

'Hi, honey," Esme said.

"How's practice going?" Carlisle asked.

I scowled. "It's...going. I mean, it's fine—I'm getting better at it, but it's...slow going. I—"

I glanced toward the front of the house. I knew I'd hear Edward if he came back, though he was probably going to discover this conversation in his parents' heads later anyway, but still, I didn't want him overhearing me now and trying to stop me; I needed to say this. Unnecessarily, but out of force of old human habit, I lowered my voice.

"I—I feel like—I mean, I've been wanting to say for a while now that I'm...sorry, for all of this."

"Oh, sweetheart," Esme said, reaching out for my hand. "You know that isn't necessary."

"It's just, before you knew me, you were all safe—you never got into trouble like this."

"Our family was never complete like this either," Carlisle said firmly. "This isn't your fault, Bella. It's clear from what's been set in motion in Italy that we've been misjudging the Volturi's true motives for a long time."

I frowned. "I know that they're the ones in the wrong here, but it's like...they've been waiting for a reason to do this for decades, and my being with Edward finally gave them their reason. I'm the spark that finally set them off."

"Bella, they were going to find an excuse eventually no matter what we did or didn't do. Having you in our family has always been more than worth the risk," Esme said, squeezing my hand.

"Thank you, Esme," I said, feeling ever so slightly better. Obviously, it was too late for me to avoid the Cullens for their own good, and if I had it to do over again, I still didn't think I'd be able to live without Edward, even knowing what I knew now about how little time we probably had left together. Still, I knew that the few months I'd been a Cullen had been the best of my existence, and though having this life seemed worth it to me, I wouldn't have blamed the rest of my new family for resenting me for the way my seemingly charmed life as an immortal had ended all of theirs.

"I just, I know that none of us ever guessed that things would turn out this way. I wish that everything were different somehow...that there was a way for us to fix all this."

"We all do, Bella, and at least with this many witnesses, there's a chance that we can get the Volturi to listen," Carlisle said gently, though we all knew that he wasn't really as optimistic as he sounded. "With everyone facing them together, I have to hope that we can still resolve this peacefully."

Esme smiled sadly. "That's right—all we can do now is hope for the best."

Carlisle put his arm around her then, and I could see why—Esme, watching Renesmee standing by the river, looked like she was about to cry. For a moment, in my eagerness to comfort her, I thought about telling her. With the papers I was getting from J, and between Edward's plan to get rid of Demetri and my own determination to take out both Jane and Alec if at all possible, Renesmee had a chance. If I couldn't give my daughter the life she deserved, a life with our family, then at least I would save her, so that she might have a shot at some kind of life at least. She and Jacob could get away, run from the battle and start new lives far from memories of the loss and carnage that were coming.

But of course, part of Alice's gift to me was the secrecy of my arrangements for my daughter. All I could really do, without risking Renesmee's future safety, was lean down and give Esme a quick hug. Smiling a little, she kissed me on the cheek.

"Don't worry, okay?" she whispered. "You have nothing to apologize for."

Now I thought of my own mother, as I often did when I talked to Esme, and I felt like crying a little too. "Doesn't feel that way," I said softly, straightening up again.

Carlisle smiled up at me, though his expression was far more sad than hopeful now. "We're all in this together, Bella. If our family can't find a way to get through what's coming, then at least we'll be there for each other, whatever happens."

I nodded, feeling a pang when I thought of Alice and Jasper—it was strange, being both grateful and sorry that not all of our family would be here to face the Volturi as one. But maybe they really would find Renesmee and Jacob...afterward.

"Okay. Thank you. Um—" I glanced over at Renesmee—abruptly, I needed to hug my daughter, while I still could. At least now Carlisle and Esme would have some privacy again. "I'll see you later."

They both smiled at me, following my gaze. "Bye, Bella," Esme said quietly as I leapt over the porch rail and headed for the river.


	258. Legacy

Hi everyone! Today, I've got another Jacob chapter for you; maybe my favorite part of "Breaking Dawn" was getting Jacob's POV for part of the book, because even though I would have liked to know specifically what was going through Bella's mind during that time, it was really interesting to read about Jacob's thoughts as an outsider getting to know the Cullens, and I wished we could have seen more interactions between Jacob and his pack in the second half of the book. So, here's a bit of that. :) Thank you so much for all your great reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 4 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! :)

_2006_: Legacy

Jacob's POV

The battle was just a few days away, and we were all sort of antsy. Okay, that's an understatement. Though I hated being away from Nessie for even a little while when we were so close to having a horde of angry vampires descend on us, I needed to hunt, and so did Seth and Leah.

Quil and Embry had gone home for the time being; our families had an idea of what was coming, so in between patrols, we were all trying to get home more often, if only to hang out on the couch with our parents and siblings while we still could. Billy and Rachel and I hadn't really discussed my probably imminent demise, and for that, I was grateful. What was there to say anyway?

I heard Leah sigh in my head as I brought down a deer and sank my teeth into it. A few moments later though, she was munching on her own kill. She was really getting better at letting the wolf take over when our pack ate together, and though she was still less than thrilled that my head was now full of thoughts of a little half vampire girl, ever since I'd imprinted, Leah seemed, if not happier, then at least less unhappy than she'd once been. Then again, I was pretty sure that the whole pack was enjoying not having to listen to me mope about Bella anymore.

_Okay_, I said, burying the carcass of my deer and listening as the others did the same. _We've only got a few days left. Have you guys...you know..._

Leah snorted. _Have we talked to our mom about how we're going to get slaughtered by vampires? No, Jacob. Shockingly, we haven't had that conversation, since she knows anyway. And she already told us that we're not allowed to say goodbye to her. I think she's...sort of in denial, and saying goodbye might make things real. She can't believe that we're really going to die._

_Hey, neither can I!_ Seth said defensively. _Come on, with all of us together, are the Volturi really guaranteed a win here? Even if a bunch of them do have crazy superpowers, we've got people like that too! It's not like we're totally doomed._

_Oh, I'm sorry, Seth_, Leah said acidly. _You're right, we're just _mostly _doomed._

_What I was _trying_ to ask,_ I thought, attempting to keep my tone even, _is if you're leaving your mom a note or something. I mean...just in case._

_In case we die,_ Leah said pointedly, determined not to let Seth ignore what he thought of as a possibility and what she considered a near certainty. I knew that I was still having a hard time with the whole "we're going to die" idea. I mean, I knew how bad the odds were, but it was difficult to wrap my head around the concept that this time next week, I might be dead. Every wolf in La Push and every vampire in Forks might be dead too.

It seemed impossible that so many people with so much incredible strength between them, so many lives (some of them really long) could just end so suddenly. I could believe that it _could_ happen, possibly, in the distant future, but I couldn't picture it as something that was just a few days away. I sure as hell didn't want to imagine my Dad or my sisters' reactions if I really died. So, maybe it wasn't my imagination giving out so much as my brain not wanting to torture itself. If I really only had a few days to live, there was no point in spending that time feeling sorry for myself or worrying about my family nonstop.

_I wrote mom a letter_, Leah announced suddenly, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. _Seth, you'd better too._

Seth was quiet for a minute. _You know, this reminds of the last Lord of the Rings movie._

Leah snorted again and I laughed. _What?_

_You know! Like, when they're right outside Mordor, and they all think they're probably gonna die. And the elf and the dwarf who fight all the time, they agree that even after all the times they've argued and disagreed, they're gonna die as friends. I mean, at least if we do die, we'll all go together._

_Seth, you're my brother and I love you, but you are such a nerd sometimes that I kinda wanna kick your butt,_ Leah thought.

I couldn't help but smile a little, my lips pulling back from my teeth in a wolfish grin._ I kinda have to agree, Seth. Still, it's a nice thought. I mean, the Cullens are our friends now, so it's a fairly accurate comparison, if an extremely nerdy one. _

_Not as far as I'm concerned,_ Leah said grimly, but then her thoughts seemed to sort of soften. _I mean, they're not my friends, but...I can think of worse people to die with than you idiots. This has been...a pretty good pack, Jacob. You've done a good job._

_Thanks, Leah,_ I thought, surprised and thinking, unfortunately, that if Leah was complimenting me, we probably really were going to die; I felt her smirk a little at that. I didn't add that if I'd really done a good job as leader of our pack, maybe we wouldn't be in this mess. If only I'd caught up with the blond before she'd gone to the Italian leeches...but it was a little late to be second-guessing things now. The battle was coming. And though I was pretty sure we weren't going to be remembered as the victors, I hoped that whoever remembered me and my pack would never forget how we fought together until the very end. At least that would be a pretty good legacy to leave behind.


	259. Ending

Hi everyone! Today's chapter takes place at the moment when everyone on the Cullens' side is convinced that the battle they've been dreading is about to start; I really love the scene in the book where Esme steps forward to take Carlisle's hand, so this chapter shows what they both might have been thinking in that moment. Thank you so much for continuing to read and review all these updates, and I'll see you yet again tomorrow! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 3 MORE DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! IT'S ALMOST HERE! :)

_2006_: Ending

Esme's POV

In just a few seconds, it would start, and then soon, they would all be dead. Like it or not, Carlisle was the leader of what the Volturi saw as a serious uprising. As such, they would kill him first. Esme held tightly to his hand—if they wanted him, they would have to take her too. Losing him, Esme had decided long ago, would only be bearable if she were right behind him in dying. That way, she would only have to live a second or two without him.

At this moment, which seemed frozen in time, as if the snowy ground itself was holding its breath before the violence to come, Esme thought of how she'd gotten here, how many years of life and love she'd enjoyed with Carlisle and their family...and now it was all going to be over. It hardly seemed possible that all of her years, to say nothing of Carlisle's centuries of life, were going to end within seconds or less, maybe in the blink of an eye. But there was nothing to be done now but wait.

Even if Esme could have started over, had a chance to live her life differently, she knew that she wouldn't have changed a thing. She wished she could tell him—she wished she still had time to tell Carlisle, one last time, how much the last ninety years had meant to her, how happily she could have gone on living the way they had for another ninety years, for nine hundred years even. Yes, there were things about this life that she disliked: she hated having to be afraid of killing humans, and she hated knowing that she would never hold a child that was hers and Carlisle's in her arms. But a part of her felt that you couldn't have everything you wanted in this or any other life.

Esme knew that even if she'd lived much longer than she had, she would never have some of the things that she desired, but she had Carlisle, and that was more than she'd ever dared hope for in her human life. For ninety years, she'd led the kind of existence that almost seemed too good to be true. The man she'd dreamed about as a girl was hers forever...and perhaps he was right.

Perhaps, in spite of what she'd done in the past, in spite of the lives she'd taken, there would be a forever after this where they could be together. Esme tried to convey all this through the pressure of her fingers, and gently, he squeezed back. Only a second had passed while she'd been thinking, and now here they were, a second closer to doom as the Volturi held their conference. Doom...or maybe heaven. They'd find out soon enough.

Carlisle's POV

As Carlisle faced the Volturi, he felt that Esme's hand was the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. Behind him was the life he'd lived before, the friendships it had taken centuries to build and the family that had taken many lonely years to find. Before him was death, at the hands of people he'd once considered friends, or at least something less malicious than enemies. Then again, when he'd known the Volturi before, he hadn't had anything they'd wanted. They'd been his friends only in so far as they'd had no reason to hurt him.

They probably only had seconds left to live, and all Carlisle could think of was that he wished he could kiss Esme one more time, tell her he loved her one more time...though he knew that no matter how many times he did so, it would never be enough. That was why he kept his eyes on the Volturi—if he turned now and looked at her, he wouldn't be able to stop looking. If he saw her now, he would grab her and hold her and look into her eyes until the Volturi killed them...and he couldn't do that. He owed it to all the friends and family that were about to die with him to at least put up a fight, futile as that would be.

_I love you_, he thought as he squeezed her fingers. _I love you, and I'm sorry I couldn't save you from this. At least we'll be together again soon. At least this isn't really the end..._

Carlisle couldn't point to a logical reason why he believed what he did: that there was a heaven waiting for them beyond the imminent carnage. He just felt sure that there must be; vampires and werewolves were real, so why not a world after this one, a place beyond fear and death and loss? Perhaps it was just a fantasy, just wishful thinking on his part, but since he'd met Esme, he'd experienced joy and love far beyond anything he'd thought possible before knowing her. Had it not been for that chance run-in with a vampire, he should have died over three hundred years ago, yet here he was, still trying to do what was right, still hoping that he and Esme would always be together.

And they were together now, in probably the final moments of their lives. So if this was the end, Carlisle was glad that they were holding hands, glad that they'd even gotten to be together in the first place. As they stood there waiting, Carlisle couldn't help but wonder: was this really an ending, or merely a new beginning?


	260. Proof

Hi everyone! Today's chapter takes place after the Volturi leave, and it's a conversation between Carlisle and Alice about their recent experiences, and their potential for future trouble with the Volturi. Thanks again for all your reviews, and I'll see you again tomorrow!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY 2 DAYS UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! DO YOU HAVE YOUR TICKET YET?!

_2006_: Proof

Alice's POV

As she gazed around the living room at her family and all of their friends, new and old, Alice could hardly stop smiling; it was good to be home. It was even better to have everyone finally know why she and Jasper had left. That had been hard, having their family think they'd gone off in an attempt to save themselves. She'd known that everyone would see things that way at first, although most of the family, Carlisle, Esme, Edward, and Bella especially, had had their suspicions. Alice saw Carlisle then, slipping away from the Irish and some nomads who'd gathered to talk, coming toward her.

"I'm surprised that Esme let you out of her sight," he said with a smile.

Alice grinned. "She has Jasper to mother at the moment. I thought I'd come see how you're enjoying your newfound position as revolutionary leader." Alice had heard a few people refer to Carlisle that way tonight, and some of them had done so only half in jest.

Carlisle sighed. "Thankfully, only the Romanians really want to go down that road. Everyone else is too happy just to be alive and able to go home to be looking too far into the future just now. Speaking of which, what do you think we can expect after all this?"

Alice frowned in concentration. "I don't see any immediate danger. Right now, the Volturi are focused on seeking out Jahum, and it seems like he'll be their primary concern for a while. He's going to be hard to catch, and when they do find him, it isn't clear at this point if they'll kill him or try and turn him into an ally. But we all know this isn't over, not by a long shot. Caius at least is determined to face us again, one day. But he's willing to wait. He knows that with Bella's shield, Jane and Alec can't touch us."

Carlisle nodded. "We're going to have to be very careful from now on, aren't we? When we travel separately, when we live apart..."

"But we've always been careful," Alice pointed out. "And anyway, I don't think we'll really have cause to worry for a long time. The Volturi haven't stayed in power for as long as they have by being rash. It might be decades, even centuries, before they come for us again."

Carlisle smiled sadly. "I hope you're right. Aro's greed certainly led him to behave rashly in this instance."

Alice shrugged and smiled loftily. "Well, you do have a lot to be envious of."

Carlisle chuckled. "I certainly do."

For a few moments, they watched the house's other occupants from the edge of the room. It was nice to take a break from being hugged and sharing exclamations of joy and relief. Alice was as happy and grateful as everyone else that things had turned out the way they had, but it had been clear to her for over a day before the confrontation in the clearing how things would probably end up. Now, in spite of all the good will surrounding her, she couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

"Something wrong?" Carlisle asked, noticing her suddenly somber mood.

"I just wish I could have called you yesterday and told you that everything was going to be all right," she said quietly. "But I couldn't be sure that things really _would_ turn out okay if I told you in advance. If you'd known who Jasper and I were bringing back with us and Aro had touched you..."

Carlisle grimaced. "I'm guessing he might have tried to turn the situation to his advantage."

Alice nodded unhappily. Lately, Aro had been planning for a lot of potential futures that she wasn't thrilled with. Most of them involved her, Bella, and Edward joining the Volturi, while the rest of the family...well, she was determined not to think of that now, not when Jasper and Edward were so happy. And she was happy too. It was just...

"I wish there'd been a way to do all this without hurting everyone," she said at last, her voice barely a whisper. "I mean, I'm sorry that we had to make you think we'd abandoned you. I just knew that we had to find proof, and I knew we didn't have much time."

"Alice," Carlisle said gently, "Esme and I knew that you and Jasper would never leave us without reason, and though we couldn't have imagined Nahuel, I know we both felt sure that you two weren't gone for good. We knew we'd see you both again, that you'd either come back and win with us, or die with us."

Startled, Alice stared at him. "I...really? I didn't see that. Though I guess I wasn't looking for it." Admittedly, she'd avoided scanning the futures of her family as far as they concerned their opinions on her and Jasper recently; some were more than a little uncomplimentary, though Alice had known Rose in particular long enough to understand that angry name-calling was just her way of blowing off steam in a tense situation.

"What, are you surprised?" Carlisle said, looking amused. "You two are family, Alice. Esme told me just before the Volturi arrived that she hoped you two wouldn't get back in time...but she was very quick to recover from her surprise when she saw that you'd arrived."

Alice remembered that moment. While the other vampires in the clearing had only seemed surprised, Carlisle and Esme had seemed equal parts stricken and shocked. They'd thought that she and Jasper were about to die with them. Esme in particular had looked like someone who had just woken from a bad dream, only to find that it was real...

"...I wasn't expecting that...Dad," Alice said softly, smiling tearfully at him. Carlisle and Esme had been her parents for a long time, but until today, she'd never had so much proof of how much they loved her, of how much they believed in her, even when her actions didn't seem to warrant their trust.

Carlisle pulled her into a fierce hug then. "Just don't do something like this again, all right?" he said gruffly.

"You know that I will if I have to," Alice whispered.

"Luckily, I know you'll come back too, when you're finished," Carlisle said, and Alice hugged him even tighter.


	261. Courage

Hi everyone! Today's chapter takes place near the end of "Breaking Dawn." Here, Jasper and Esme talk a bit about the confrontation with the Volturi, and Jasper reflects on how it felt when he and Alice left the Cullens. Once again, thank you so much for continuing to read all these updates, and I'll see you again for the final celebratory "Breaking Dawn" update tomorrow! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and ONLY ONE MORE DAY UNTIL "BREAKING DAWN" PART 2! THIS TIME TOMORROW, WE'LL BE WATCHING IT! :)

_2006_: Courage

Jasper's POV

Sitting on the couch with Esme (Alice had flitted off to talk with Carlisle), Jasper savored the pleasant emotions of the immortals around him. Esme in particular was a joy to be close to; though she was sad about what had happened to Irina, her relief that the rest of her friends and family had survived was palpable, like a gust of warm air that heated the whole room. Jasper couldn't remember warmth really, but the sensation of feeling the happiness of others was, he thought, a good facsimile. With so much contentedness in the house now, Jasper recalled hazy memories of nights from his childhood, sitting by a fire with his family, awash in comfort and security.

Esme squeezed his hand then, and he turned to her and smiled. She'd been talking with Peter and Charlotte, who were headed over to say their goodbyes to Garrett and the Denalis now. Jasper made a mental note to thank them again for coming to witness. He knew they'd be leaving soon, and that he might not see them again for some time, but they had new friends to speak to here, and for the moment, he was content just to sit and talk with Esme.

"I'm glad they came," he said, nodding in their direction. "I wasn't sure they would."

"Everyone here has someone to lose," Esme said with a shrug. "If things had gone differently today...I mean, if you and Alice hadn't shown up with Nahuel and Huilen when you did, I know we wouldn't have been so lucky. I can understand people being hesitant to come to us, let alone stay."

Jasper nodded. "Certainly, the atmosphere tonight would be different if we'd arrived any later." For Edward's sake, Jasper tried not to think of the house as it would have been tonight if the Volturi had won: empty and dark, with no loved ones or allies inside, left for Charlie Swan to find and always wonder what had happened to his daughter and the Cullen family.

Esme released Jasper's hand then only to put her arm around him. "I know that you're going to get tired of hearing me say this, Jasper, but I'm so glad to have you and Alice home."

Jasper smiled. "We're glad to be home too, Esme, and glad to have a home to return to. Both of us were sorry that we ever had to leave the way we did, so trust me—now that we're back, neither of us is planning on going anywhere for a while."

Jasper was glad that he hadn't been around to feel what his parents and siblings had felt when they realized that he and Alice had left—when they'd thought that Alice must have had a vision so terrible that it had convinced her to abandon them. That had been the worst part of all this for Jasper: knowing what the others must think of them, feeling Alice's guilt, and knowing that he could do nothing to relieve his family's feelings of betrayal and despair, or do any more than temporarily soothe Alice's conscience.

"I'm glad I wasn't here, when you first realized we were gone," Jasper said quietly. After being away from the others for what seemed like so long, Jasper was eager to talk, even if what he had to say wasn't terribly cheerful. "That...must have been hard."

Esme nodded. "It was. But Carlisle and I were glad in a way, after the initial shock wore off. I remember thinking that at least two of us might be left. But when I found out that you'd sent Peter and Charlotte to us, I started to worry that you'd come back before the end, maybe to give us an element of surprise if it came to a fight."

Jasper thought of all the battles he'd ever been in, all the carnage he'd seen during his time with Maria, and it chilled him to think that all that paled in comparison to the confrontation they'd narrowly avoided today. He was so relieved that Alice's plan had worked, that bringing Nahuel and his aunt had forced the Volturi to pause. He never wanted Alice to see the kind of things he'd seen, and the same was true for Esme. He'd forgotten the face of his human mother a long time ago, but when he imagined Esme having to watch her children fighting and dying all around her, he knew that his and Alice's temporary defection had been well worth it to spare her that.

"I'm glad it didn't come to a fight, in the end," Jasper said quietly. He didn't have to tell Esme that they wouldn't have won; at best, they might have managed to fight the Volturi to a draw. At worst, their entire family, as well as every wolf and vampire allied with the Cullens within a hundred miles of the battlefield would have been killed.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "it was hard to leave all of you the way we did, but it was even harder coming back, knowing that we might be too late. Alice wasn't completely certain that we'd make it in time."

"The last few months have been hard on all of us," Esme said softly, "But I'm so grateful that the two of you had the courage to do what you had to. And I'm also glad to find that the new year has really turned out to be a new beginning for us, and not an ending."

Jasper smiled. "A new beginning, with all new challenges to deal with. The Volturi aren't gone forever, after all, and the existence of vampire-human hybrids proves that our world is changing, maybe more than it has in hundreds or even thousands of years." Then he paused. "Sorry. Even surrounded by positive emotions, I guess I'm kind of a glass half-empty guy."

"I think you're being pragmatic, not pessimistic," Esme said, giving him a quick hug. "The challenges you mentioned are something we can think about tomorrow though. Tonight, I'm just glad you're home, Jasper."

Jasper hugged her back, closing his eyes as the comforting feelings of home surrounded him. "Thanks, Mom. Me too."


	262. Relieved

Hi everyone! Phew, here's the last of my celebratory "Breaking Dawn" updates. Here, Carlisle and Esme are just grateful to be alive and alone together. :) Thanks so much for all your great reviews, and I'll see you again soon! (Yeah, not this Sunday, but next; I need to take a week off after all these updates...:))

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and as soon as I post this, I'll be on my way to "Breaking Dawn" Part 2! IT'S FINALLY HERE! :)

_2006_: Relieved

Esme's POV

As she finally stepped into their bedroom late that night (or rather, very early on the morning after the Volturi's visit), Esme could hardly believe that this was real. It seemed that somehow, everything should have been different, but there was her desk and their bed and everything else, looking just as it had early that morning, when they'd thought they might never come home again. The objects in the room looked the same, but being here felt different now that the death sentence that had been hanging over everyone for months had been lifted. They'd been acquitted of their supposed crime, and now...now, they had the rest of forever ahead of them.

The house was quiet now—well, mostly. Rosalie and Emmett, along with Alice and Jasper, had retired to their rooms, and it was times like this that led Esme to soundproof every house the family lived in together. (Huilen and Nahuel had gone off to hunt up in Canada; apparently, Alice had intimated that with three couples in the house, it might be best if they made themselves scarce until morning.)

Carlisle came into the room a step behind her, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. Then they both grinned, and laughing, Esme launched herself at him, jumping into his arms and holding him close. He twirled them around as they embraced, like they were dancing, and then he carried her to the bed and set her down. Then they both lay back on the quilt and stared up at the ceiling.

"...I think I'm still in shock," Esme said at last. "I mean...we're okay. We're all okay."

"Yes," Carlisle said, sounding just as amazed as she felt. "Alice will see when the Volturi plan to try something like this again, but I think she's right in assuming that we won't have to worry about another situation like this for a long time. We scared them today. Aro and Caius especially didn't enjoy feeling outmatched."

"Alice...who's back, along with Jasper," Esme said wonderingly. "They're home, and we're all okay."

"Thanks to Bella and her shield, and the presence of all our friends," Carlisle said, and Esme nodded fervently. She remembered Jane's face that day, how she'd glared at them all, trying to hurt them, trying to hurt _Carlisle_, and Esme made a mental note to hug her daughter-in-law yet again in silent thanks for protecting him, and for sparing her the agony of having to see him writhing in pain.

"There were so many ways it might not have worked out the way it did," Esme breathed. "If the wolves hadn't stood with us, if you and the others hadn't been able to restrain Tanya and Kate, if Bella hadn't been able to stop Jane and Alec's attacks, or if Alice and Jasper had arrived any later..."

"Or if Aro hadn't listened," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "Fortunately for us, his love of unusual immortals seems to know no bounds, and he does love a spectacle. Other than Alice, I suppose none of us could have predicted how Aro would react to the existence of more vampire hybrids. I wonder if he's going to try and collect them..."

They were both silent for a moment, and when Esme turned to look at Carlisle, he was still deep in thought.

"What is it?" she asked, though she could guess. Tonight seemed too soon to be worrying about the future, while the recent past was still a period of terror and uncertainty that needed to be examined.

"I was just thinking of how this time last night, we were lying here, thinking that we were going to die," Carlisle said.

Esme thought about the hours they'd spent the night before just holding onto each other, each of them gazing at the other while they still could. She'd studied every millimeter of his face, recalled the times she'd touched every inch of his body. There hadn't been passion between them the previous night though; they'd simply held each other and looked and remembered, and it had been enough just to see him, to be beside him and know that they were still together, if only for a little while longer. Esme had never felt such dread at seeing the sun rise as she had that morning, which had given way to a day full of fear and doubt and looming disaster, and now it was over. They were safe, and Esme still felt that she was too shocked to be properly happy that things had turned out the way they had.

"Now it's your turn to tell me what you're thinking about," Carlisle murmured, burying his face in her hair and hugging her close.

Esme laughed. "I was just thinking that it's still sinking in, that we're really all right. I'm only just now starting to feel truly glad about that. Until now, I think I've been overwhelmed with awe and relief. But that's starting to wear off."

"So what are you feeling now?" Carlisle asked, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him so that she was on top of him, a position that made Esme eager to snuggle closer.

She grinned. "I'm feeling joy, and gratitude...and lust, both for life and for my very brave husband."

Carlisle looked somewhat doubtful. "Brave?"

"Speaking to Aro the way you did today," Esme said, shaking her head at him. "I would have been terrified, and I suppose that maybe you were too, but you did it anyway. That's the essence of bravery, Carlisle. Being afraid but doing what you have to just the same."

Carlisle shrugged and smiled slightly. "Well, you were right beside me, so that helped. It was easier to be brave, having you to hold onto."

Esme smiled down at him, so thrilled that they were both alive, that their family was safe, and that they were here, together, right at this moment.

"Our guests are gone for the time being, and the door's locked," Esme pointed out, running her hands along the sides of his face and breathing in the scent of him, still here, and now alone with her at last.

"That's true," Carlisle said, rubbing her back and tracing the contours of her arms and hands. "And I seem to remember you mentioning something about lust just now."

"That I did," Esme agreed, grinning down at him. "Allow me to demonstrate what I was talking about." Then she kissed him, and for a long time after that, both of them felt things just as intense, but a great deal more pleasurable, than their earlier relief.


	263. Normalcy

Hi everyone! Sorry for taking not one but two weeks off (or has it been three now?), but what with the holiday, I was busy, and then I typed this chapter once…and lost it. Yeah. That doesn't happen often, but when computer trouble comes up and something like that happens, lots of swearing ensues and it can take me longer to get a chapter finished since I have to _retype it_. :P Ugh!

And then, to further make a mess of things, my hard drive died again, but luckily it was under warranty, and at least I had saved this chapter correctly, since thankfully I didn't have to type it AGAIN, but I didn't get my computer back from Best Buy until Friday, so now here we are, and after a busy weekend, I only just now have had time to edit this. Anyway, that's where I've been; sorry for disappearing!

Today's chapter takes place after "Breaking Dawn" Part 2, and it deals with Carlisle's thoughts on getting back to ordinary life. On the one hand, I'm sure he'd be relieved to have things back to "normal" (for the Cullens), but on the other, I think he'd spend a lot of time thinking about faking Bella's death and otherwise preserving their family's secrecy. (This is something I wish we'd heard more about in the books, so here's my take on this tricky situation.) Thanks for your reviews, and I'll see you again Saturday! (And Sunday; I'm hoping to post a couple of extra things this weekend. :))

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and…wow. I've only seen "Breaking Dawn" Part 2 twice so far, and I can't wait to see it again! Just…whoa. So many great Carlisle and Esme moments! :)

_2007_: Normalcy

Carlisle's POV

"Hi, Dr. Cullen," Tammy said shyly. "Is—is your daughter-in-law doing better?"

"We think she's on the mend, but she's still very ill," Carlisle said. Given recent events, it was easy to appear tired but hopeful. "We'll just have to wait and see. For now though, it's good to finally be back."

It was January, and Carlisle had been absent from the hospital for weeks on family medical leave. Had Forks Hospital been a busier place, he knew that his return would have been marked by overworked fellow doctors both happy and irritated to see him back after they'd been forced to cover his shifts for so long. But as it was (Forks Hospital being less than bustling most days), doctors and nurses alike seemed genuinely glad that he'd returned, and Carlisle too was grateful to be back. It was nice to feel as though life had finally returned to a relatively even keel. Of course, changes were coming.

By now, it seemed that everyone in town knew that Chief Swan's daughter had fallen deathly ill on her honeymoon. Consequently, visits to Charlie on the part of Edward, Bella, and Nessie had been very cautious affairs—they'd had to be very careful not to be seen, or to arrive and leave only under cover of darkness. When asked by neighbors about the strange cars they'd seen in front of his house, Charlie had claimed that his visitors were relatives of Sue's. He did so grudgingly, but Carlisle and Esme (as well as Sue Clearwater) had all spoken to him more than once about the need for secrecy. Not telling people about Bella or Nessie was the only way to keep them safe and, unbeknownst to Charlie, to keep him safe too.

Charlie didn't like lying to people, but he seemed to understand that everyone would be better off if ordinary humans didn't know about his daughter's strange transformation or his rapidly growing granddaughter. But not knowing wasn't really enough: everyone needed to think that Bella was gone for good. So, in a week or two, Carlisle would have to announce, with appropriate gravity and sadness, that Bella had passed away after a long struggle with a rare illness contracted in South America.

Announcing the news of Bella's supposed death would mean taking more time off from work, ostensibly to help Edward cope with his grief. Edward and Bella could never be seen in Forks again, and though Carlisle and Esme could still come into town, the rest of their children were supposed to be in college anyway, and thus couldn't risk being spotted either. Carlisle knew that it was going to be a difficult situation for all of them, but everyone had agreed to stay in Forks for the time being, mostly so that Charlie could get to know Nessie during her all too brief childhood. Of course, the drama to come was going to entail a lot of sacrifice on Chief Swan's part; given his lack of experience with such charades, Charlie was going to struggle more than any of them.

Though Carlisle had accepted the situation long ago, he acknowledged that the deception to come was still far from ideal. Charlie wasn't a good actor, and pretending that Bella was dead was going to grieve him to no end. If he loved his daughter or granddaughter any less, Carlisle didn't think he could have gone through with it. But with Sue's help, he would attend the private mock funeral service they'd planned, and he would take bereavement leave from work. (Sue, thankfully, was already planning a series of trips to keep Charlie out of town until the shock of Bella's death and the resulting public sympathy could die down a bit). Such a farce wasn't exactly agreeable to anyone involved, but short of disappearing from Forks altogether, it was the best they could do.

It would have been both simpler and kinder, Carlisle knew, to have declared Bella dead in the human world months ago. Though she hadn't been close to many people in Forks, her friends from high school had worried about her, and of course Charlie had been frantic and miserable for weeks the previous summer, wondering what was happening to his only child. Renée, still in Florida, was half-mad with anxiety too; so far, daily updates via e-mail and frequent phone calls from Bella saying that she was feeling better had soothed the worst of her fears (she was supposedly recuperating at a medical center in Sweden), but everyone knew that they couldn't keep up that act forever.

Renée had already missed Thanksgiving and Christmas with her daughter, and it wasn't likely that she would accept Bella's absence for many more holidays. Everyone had agreed that they wouldn't publicize the news of Bella's death or tell Renée just yet; Bella was sorry for how she'd hurt her mother, and she wanted to give her a better explanation than a sad and sudden death by mysterious illness. Carlisle agreed that they owed Renée more than that, and given her physical distance from Bella, she was probably safe from the Volturi, but still, the current situation would have to be altered eventually.

The delay, Carlisle had decided, was regrettable. They'd waited to break the news of Bella's "death" in an effort to spare the feelings of her parents (and admittedly, to spare Bella's feelings too). But waiting to tell them had only prolonged the suffering they'd had to endure, the uncertain torture inherent to having an ailing child, which centuries in medicine had taught Carlisle the full horror of. Thanks to Jacob, they'd had to secure a promise from Charlie to cooperate with the cover up, which further complicated things. Maintaining the secrecy of their family and the safety of humans under such circumstances would be difficult, and much as Charlie disliked the situation, Carlisle couldn't say that he liked it any better. However, there was really no turning back now.

Even staying in Forks now was terribly risky, but of course, the worst had already happened: the Volturi had come, yet they'd left the humans in the area, even Bella's father, in peace. There were still plenty of things that could go wrong, but death by vampire attack seemed far less likely than it had a month ago, though there was still a phony funeral service to get through, and it would be tricky, staying in Forks (save for perhaps a semester of travel here and there) until Nessie was grown up. Alice didn't foresee any major problems on that score just yet, but there was still the difficult question of what to do about Bella's mother…but those were worries for later. That day, Carlisle simply performed his rounds, just as he had for so many decades in so many different hospitals, just happy to be at work and helping people.

It was a fairly uneventful day in the Emergency Room: a woman came in after cutting her fingers with a butcher knife while making lunch for her kids; an older man was admitted for observation after experiencing chest pains (though the source of those, Carlisle guessed, was really gastrointestinal trouble, not a heart attack); and a young couple brought in their toddler for what they thought was an asthma attack. It was, and Carlisle relished the fact that while children had died of similar complaints in the previous century (and still did in some parts of the world), now, in most cases, such ailments were treatable. Over the course of the day, he was able to help many people feel better, and no one died, so on the whole, it was a very good day. (_Ironically_, he thought, _a day without fatalities is a good day for a doctor and a bad one for most vampires._)

When his shift was over, he said good night to his coworkers and drove home, glad that the house would be empty of guests when he got there. Under different circumstances, it would have been nice to have had so many old friends come to visit (in spite of their thirst for human blood), but now that the threat of the Volturi had passed, for now, Carlisle was grateful just to go home to Esme and not have to entertain over a dozen vampires. Esme greeted him at the door, clearly glad to see him—since the Volturi had left, and in the weeks preceding their arrival, they'd barely been apart for more than a few minutes at a time, but though Carlisle had enjoyed his day at work, he was still relieved to get home to her, to see her safe and happy and waiting for him. It might be difficult for a while, accepting that they were really safe and could go back to some semblance of normalcy.

"Mmm," Esme said, tucking her head under his chin and kissing him on the neck. As she hugged him close, he could feel her breathing against his skin, and he shivered. "It's good to have you home."

"Well, it's very good to be home," Carlisle said, kissing the top of her head and rubbing her back. "Busy day?" He could tell from the quiet in the house that their children had retired to their rooms for the night, and Edward and Bella must have already taken Nessie back to the cottage.

"I finished a painting and got started on restoring that old armoire I've been meaning to tackle," Esme said with a shrug. "So, it was productive. How was your day?"

As she spoke, she raised her head to meet his eyes and deftly slid her hands under his shirt, then grinned as she began to trace the contours of his abdomen. In the same moment, she began to pull him toward the stairs.

Carlisle grinned too, scooped her up in his arms, and hurried toward their room while her mouth sought his. "It was good," he said, "but I think it's about to get even better…"


	264. Santa

Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update, but between shopping for Christmas and getting things like cards and boxes in the mail this weekend, I just ran out of time. Here's a fun chapter inspired by the last two weekends I've spent at the mall; I've got another chapter coming later, so stay tuned! Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again a little later tonight. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of "Twilight," and I can't wait to see "Breaking Dawn" Part 2 again! :)

_2008_: Santa

Esme's POV

It was almost Christmas, and though Alice had finished her shopping months ago, the rest of the family had come to a mall that Saturday to finish theirs. (Jasper, as had been the case for several years, had elected to do his shopping online so as to avoid the thirst he always suffered in large crowds of humans.) Esme liked the parameters they'd agreed to that year: you could only spend $25 per family member, including spouses, which meant that Nessie, who received an allowance each week, had been able to save up her own money to buy gifts for her family.

Of course, Esme knew that Nessie received a much larger weekly allowance than any other one-year-old, but though she knew about managing money as an abstract concept, it was clear that Nessie enjoyed the process of actually saving money, deciding what she wanted to buy for who, and what she could actually buy within the budget that the whole family had agreed on. Of course, Esme suspected that there would be some cheating; she couldn't imagine Rosalie or Alice actually sticking to the limit, in spite of their best intentions, and she herself had gone a little over budget in shopping for Nessie. Still, it was nice to try and stick to a limit for gift price. Esme thought it made things a bit more special that way; you really had to think about what you were going to buy if you could only spend so much.

The mall was crowded, but everyone had hunted the night before, so the smell of so many humans didn't trouble Esme as she and Bella sat with Nessie in the food court. Nessie was having a snack while they decided what store to go to next. (Everyone else had split up in a largely futile attempt to keep their purchases a secret.)

"I'm almost done," Bella said, examining her list. Of course she knew it by heart, but after a year as a vampire, Bella had gotten much better at imitating human gestures and mannerisms. "Just Emmett and Jasper left, so let's maybe stop by Gander Mountain later. How about you, honey?"

"Aunt Rose and Aunt Alice," Nessie said, munching on a cinnamon pretzel and looking thoughtful. "They like clothes and jewelry, but I can't think of anything to get them that isn't like something they already have. So maybe I'll have to think of something else."

"I know I'm biased, but whatever you get them, I'm sure they'll love it, Nessie," Esme said, sniffing doubtfully at the pretzel. It didn't smell at all appetizing, but over the past year, Nessie had gotten better about eating human food as well as blood. As long as something was sweet, she usually enjoyed it.

Nessie rolled her eyes. "You _are_ biased, grandma. But, thanks. Do you have any ideas?"

"Well, Alice might like something to do with fashion design," Esme said thoughtfully. "She's been making more clothes lately, so you could pick out some nice material for a dress when we go to Joann Fabrics later."

"Good idea," Nessie said eagerly, scribbling hurriedly in the little notebook she kept her list in. Bella and Esme smiled at each other as they watched her write. Though Nessie could write far better than any human child her age, her penmanship was still an adorably childish scrawl.

Nessie could already speak more than one language, but writing was something she especially enjoyed, precisely because she had to work at it. It seemed that she liked to be challenged; so many things came so easily to her that when she found something that was a struggle to do perfectly, like writing or drawing, she relished the chance to practice it. Esme guessed that Nessie liked feeling like an ordinary kid once in a while.

"As for Aunt Rose," Esme said thoughtfully, "why not buy her a board game or a puzzle, something the two of you can do together? In a toy store earlier, I saw a robot-building kit. That might be fun."

"That sounds good," Nessie said, frowning at what she'd written. "Hmm, my 'g's still look like 'q's sometimes."

"That happens to me sometimes too," Bella said. "Sorry Nes, but I think you've inherited my handwriting."

Nessie grinned. "That's good. Your writing's pretty, mama."

"Thanks, but your dad's is prettier," Bella said, smoothing Nessie's hair back so that none of it could drag in the cinnamon on her plate.

"It's so perfect though," Nessie argued. "I think yours has more...personality."

"I guess that when your dad was growing up, everyone had to practice penmanship more, so maybe everyone's writing looked more alike than ours does now," Bella said. "You know how Grandpa Charlie has really neat handwriting, but Grandma Renée's is almost illegible? Maybe genetics play a role, so when you grow up, your handwriting might be a mix of mine and Edward's."

"That would be good," Nessie said, seeming both pleased and exasperated as she stared down at her notebook. "But I'll have to practice a lot more before that happens."

"I WANNA SEE SANTA!" a child a few yards away suddenly screamed.

"Ugh, the line is _two_ _hours_ long..." a harried parent muttered as she passed.

"I guess a lot of the crowd here today wants pictures with Santa," Bella said, looking at Nessie. "Um. Nessie, do you-"

"No," Nessie said immediately. "Thanks, mama, but I don't want to spend two hours listening to babies cry just for a picture. Besides, we already have pictures of me with Uncle Billy as Santa."

"That's true," Bella said, looking relieved. "Still, I know that, well..."

"Human kids really like Santa," Nessie said, finishing what she and Esme had both guessed her mother was thinking. "I don't get it though. Why tell a stranger what you want for Christmas?"

"Well, because Santa's supposed to be magical, I suppose," Esme said. "I think the idea is that he can give you whatever you want, no matter how impossible it seems. Like a pony, or a race car, or world peace."

"It's hard to believe though, someone traveling all around the world in one night, and flying reindeer, and magic elves," Nessie said. "I mean, if I didn't know about...other supposedly make believe stuff, then I don't think I'd believe it, even if I were a human kid."

"Well, when I was a kid, I remember that I wasn't very old when I figured out that the whole thing was just pretend," Bella said thoughtfully. "But I think the idea of Santa is sort of nice. A bit creepy since he has to sneak into your house to give you presents, but nice."

"I think adults tell stories about things like Santa to children because the world can be a scary place," Esme said, "and the idea of Santa is supposed to be comforting. Yes, bad things happen, but there are benevolent forces in the world too. It's meant to be fun for kids, to give them something to hope for, and so the world will seem like a more magical place."

"But then when they find out he isn't real," Nessie said slowly, "aren't some kids mad that adults have been lying to them? And isn't the world amazing by itself? Why make up stories about something that doesn't exist?"

"I'm sure some kids _are_ mad," Bella said, "but Esme's right. For most kids, and for humans in general, I think the illusion of magic is preferable to thinking that the world they see is all there is. Even some adults like things like magic shows, like that guy on TV who does card tricks. Even though you know that it's not really magic, that there's a logical explanation, there's still something about it that makes you feel...I don't know, a sense of wonder at what _could_ be. Maybe Santa's more about the possibility of magic existing than anything else."

"Or maybe the possibility of making the world a better place by giving to others," Esme suggested. "Santa may not be real, but as a symbol, he really can inspire people to be generous, if only during this time of year."

Nessie smiled. "In that case, I guess I should give Santa the benefit of the doubt. After all, I know people who are way stranger than he is."

Esme and Bella both laughed. "You certainly do, sweetie," Esme said. "You certainly do."


	265. Heirloom

Hi everyone! Tonight's (somewhat short) second chapter is the first in a series; sorry to everyone who's waiting eagerly for CarlisleXEsme fluff, but what with Christmas being next week, I thought I'd explore something that might connect the Cullens as a family. So, the next few chapters are all linked by something—you'll see how (and what that something is) soon enough. (And don't worry, we'll be back to fluff early in 2013. :))

Bear in mind that the coincidence here might seem a bit far-fetched, but I think you'll like how everything turns out. Thanks so much for your reviews, and I'll see you again soon. (I've got two chapters planned for Sunday as an early Christmas present, plus a new chapter of "Stregoni" that's almost finished…:))

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of "Twilight," and has anyone else seen the Carlisle and Esme Barbies they're making?! SO PRETTY!

_2007_: Heirloom

Bella's POV

It was a couple of weeks before Christmas, and all of us were at the main house one night, sitting in the living room and watching it snow. We'd all played outside together for most of the day, and in spite of her greater-than-human strength, Nessie was still a partially-mortal kid, so she was tired after so much activity. Emmett had promised to continue their snowball war the following day (though it was really more of a mud and slush-ball war), so she'd agreed to come inside, and now my little Nessie was sipping hot chocolate and staring out the window, sitting between me and Edward on the couch and getting whipped cream on her nose.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Emmett suggested.

"Mmm, maybe not tonight," Nessie said, looking around at our assembled family. "Let's turn off the TV and tell stories. Isn't that something that people used to do around Christmas?"

"It's something they did all the time, before TV," Jasper said.

"What kind of story would you like to hear?" I asked, stroking her copper curls and smiling when she made a face as I wiped her nose.

"Something about our family, maybe before everyone knew each other," Nessie said, looking at Carlisle. "Grandpa, you've been alive for a long time. What did you used to do for fun when you were first changed?"

"Lots of things," Carlisle said with a smile. "I had a lot of hobbies that were meant to keep me occupied and out of trouble, but probably the things I liked best were reading and traveling."

Suddenly, Rosalie's face lit up. "I've got a story for you, Nessie. Actually, it's one we can all tell. And it starts with Grandpa. Wait right here."

"Ooh, I like this one!" Alice said eagerly, grinning at whatever she saw coming next.

Rosalie disappeared up the stairs, then came back a second later, holding something that she offered to Nessie. Nessie took it, and I saw that it was a golden cross on a matching chain. It looked like it was very old, and very delicate.

Beside me, Edward chuckled. "Bella's never heard this story either. I think you and your mother will both like it, Nessie, because it's about this necklace, and a rather startling series of coincidences."

"Maybe they weren't coincidences though," Esme suggested, nodding at the cross. "Maybe that necklace proves that we were always meant to be together, someday. Isn't this the time of year to believe in small miracles like that?"

"It's pretty," Nessie said, examining the necklace. "What's it made of?"

"Gold, which is why it's aged well," Carlisle said. "Gold is very malleable, easy to bend and shape, but its chemical makeup guarantees that it doesn't tarnish, so it keeps its shine long after other metals have rusted away."

"Where did it come from?" I asked.

"I bought it a long, long time ago, when I was visiting Stefan and Vladamir," Carlisle explained. "This was before I knew for certain that I wanted to be a doctor. I was traveling around Europe, studying all sorts of things and working as I went to pay my way. I visited Stefan and Vladamir several times in the first few years I knew them, before I went to Volterra."

"Did they live in Romania then?" Nessie wondered.

"No, they were traveling, just as they usually do," Carlisle said. "They return to Romania as often as they dare, but the Volturi still pursue them from time to time. This was true even three centuries ago, when I bought this necklace. I'd heard all of Stefan and Vladamir's stories of course, before my time in Italy, but I always took them with a grain of salt, though they were really deadly serious in their warnings. Over a century passed before they'd even speak to me after I'd lived in Volterra; they took my curiosity regarding the Italian coven as something of a personal insult. They're a fascinating pair, given how long they've lived, but when I was young, they always struck me as being a bit paranoid."

"Only a bit?" Emmett said, rolling his eyes. "Though I guess it turns out they kinda had a point."

"Their hatred of the Volturi notwithstanding, they were always intriguing to talk to," Carlisle said with a smile. "The visit when I bought this necklace was an especially interesting one. We met in what's now Ukraine, and I suppose the best place to begin this story is with me taking an unexpected swim in the Black Sea..."


	266. Goodness

Hi everyone! This week's chapter is rather long: it takes place on Christmas Eve only a few decades after Carlisle became a vampire, and in the spirit of the season, I really liked the idea of showing how Carlisle might try to help humans as inconspicuously as possible, even before he was sure that he wanted to spend his life helping people as a doctor. Originally, this wasn't going to be the Christmas chapter, but then I realized that if I could make Stefan and Vladimir part of a Christmas story, then I really shouldn't pass up such a golden opportunity. :) Thanks for all your great reviews (they're a gift I get to enjoy all year long :)), and I'll see you again next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer, not I, is the author of "Twilight." Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! :)

_1699_: Goodness

Carlisle's POV

As soon as Carlisle emerged from the water, pretending to gasp for air as he did so, the child in his arms, who actually did need to breathe, took in a deep gulp of air and then immediately began to wail. On shore, the child's mother did the same, weeping with relief and terror at how easily her son might have drowned. Carlisle pretended to struggle a little as he made his way back to the beach, and once he was back on dry land, he accepted the tearful thanks of the mother and the cloak of a bystander who guessed he must be chilled after his dip in the icy sea.

"You'll want to get somewhere warm so's you can dry off before you catch your death," the owner of the cloak advised as the mother hurried her child away, presumably toward home and a roaring fire. The little boy, who'd slipped away from his mother while she'd been shopping, had apparently been transfixed by the sight of the beautiful water beneath the city's main dock, and wanting a closer look, he'd slipped and fallen in. Carlisle always hoped that a child would be watched more carefully after an incident like this, but he had to wonder just how many children that Providence spared in one instance would later be killed in another accident, more the victims of adult inattention than any malevolent force.

"Carlisle?" a voice called, sounding surprised and deeply amused. "There you are! But what's happened?"

"He just saved a boy's life," the old man with the cloak said while Carlisle sat on the ground, pretending to look cold and tired and trying not to smile as he predicted his friends' amusement at the present situation. "Jumped into the sea to save him when he saw someone struggling, never mind that his good deed might yet kill him. You're a brave man, sir, but very foolish, if I may be so bold. No one swims in the Black Sea this time of year that isn't half in love with death. We mortals can only follow the Savior's example so far."

"He'll be all right," another familiar voice said. "We'll get him back to our lodgings and a nice fire."

Carlisle glanced up at Vladimir, who was grinning as he offered Carlisle a hand and helped him to his feet. Stefan joined them then, and while Carlisle returned the man's cloak, he pretended to shiver.

"Thank you," he said, and the old man nodded, looking worried.

"Come, dear friend," Stefan said, barely suppressed laughter in his voice. "Why, you're as cold as ice!"

Carlisle rolled his eyes as they led him off. As soon as they were out of human earshot, Vladimir and Stefan glanced at him and began chuckling at his appearance, and in a moment, they were both laughing heartily at his sodden state.

"Yes, yes, very droll, I'm sure," Carlisle said, shaking his head at the grinning pair.

"You should have seen them looking at you, like you're some sort of saint," Vladimir said, still snorting with laughter. "And on Christmas Eve too! They'll all be telling their friends at church about your good deed tonight. You must really long for the society of any creature, if you're willing to ruin a perfectly good suit to win the favor of these uncouth Cossacks."

"I honestly didn't have an ulterior motive in mind," Carlisle said, shaking his head like a dog to at least dry his hair a little. "I saw someone in trouble, and I helped because I could."

"What a brave man, jumping into icy water to save a human that would barely be a morsel, barely a mouthful of blood," Stefan chuckled. "You are more careful about preserving our food supply than we are."

"You know I don't see humans that way," Carlisle said, squeezing some water out of his sleeves and the collar of his coat. "Imagine if you were still human, and that was your child. Wouldn't you want someone to intervene, if they were able?"

Stefan and Vladimir looked at each other knowingly. "You're very young, Carlisle," Stefan said, shaking his head. "Give it a few centuries, and you will cease to think of such irrelevant things."

"You yourself just pointed out how you need humans," Carlisle argued. "How can any of them be irrelevant if they might one day quench your thirst? Or better still, perhaps later in life that boy will grow to be someone useful to you: a skilled artisan, a fine tailor—"

"Or perhaps he will someday make me a suit and then make me a meal," Vladimir said with relish. "Why should he only be one or the other?"

"In that case, I applaud your alacrity and level head when it comes to making investments for the future," Stefan said, leading Carlisle inside the house they had rented.

After Carlisle had changed into dry clothes (his small suitcase at least had escaped his misadventure in the Black Sea), he followed Stefan and Vladimir back outside and into the city's marketplace, where the two Romanians moved from stall to stall, managing to look both bored and faintly hopeful at the same time. Along the way, Carlisle listened to the conversations around him: two men discussing the weather, a young girl staring longingly at a set of leather-bound books, a maid telling someone her household was looking for new servants because two had recently gotten married. Most humans, however, were busy buying things for the Holy Supper, the tradition of having a fine dinner on Christmas Eve, and those who could afford to were buying geese and other hearty foods to grace their tables.

"Just what are you looking for exactly?" Carlisle finally asked when he noticed that Stefan and Vladimir, for a change, weren't complaining about the Volturi or snickering at humans behind their hands.

"Our possessions," Vladimir explained. "After the Italian scum overthrew us, they kept most of our belongings for themselves, but they sold many as well."

"Apparently, we differ in how we choose to ornament our great estates," Stefan said scornfully. "Aro loves gaudy things, while our tastes are rather more...subtle."

"That is why we sometimes find objects that we once possessed in markets like this," Vladimir said grimly. "Candelabras, fine sculptures, old paintings of immeasurable value. Ignorant mortals dismiss them as trash, refuse taken from some faded house which is then sold for a pittance to the gullible, when they are really great antiques, old and in disrepair, but great nonetheless."

Carlisle offered to help look for any objects they might describe in detail, but Stefan and Vladimir waved him off as they began discussing whether or not an old vase before them, now broken and carelessly mended, had once been theirs, or if it was really a cunning imitation of the original object. With a shrug, Carlisle wandered the market on his own for a while, smiling as he listened to the Romanians eventually haggling with a nervous merchant. As Carlisle neared the end of the square of loosely ordered stalls, he spied a man selling jewelry. One piece, a golden cross, reminded him of the cross his father had once worn. That one had been made of a far humbler material (wood, or maybe brass—he could no longer remember), but the shape of this one was the same, and on impulse, Carlisle took a closer look at it.

"How much for this?" Carlisle asked. The man named a price and Carlisle paid it; he'd never been much for haggling, and anyway, he found that since becoming a vampire, people rarely seemed to overcharge him for things. This merchant already looked uneasy enough that Carlisle guessed, if he simply stood there long enough, the man would give him the cross, just to get rid of him. Carlisle hesitated when he went to put the cross around his neck. The chain was a bit small for him, but more than that, he'd been distracted by the sight of a boy, begging outside a nearby bakery. Beside him sat a little girl whose nose was running.

Carlisle smiled at the cross in his hand then. Maybe the urge to buy it had really been an urge to give someone a gift today. Wherever he traveled, he tried to help beggars as best he could, children especially. Perhaps he could never help people as much as he hoped, or really change someone else's life, but he could at least try.

"Here," Carlisle said, handing the boy some coins. "Take this and buy some new clothes for you and your sister."

The boy gaped at him. "Thank you, sir! But—but we're really quite hungry, actually..."

"Stay here then," Carlisle said, stepping into the bakery and buying some bread. The children were still there when he came out, looking both amazed and suspicious at a stranger's offer of help, but regardless of their reservations, they ate the bread he gave them in huge hungry bites, then looked up at him, as if awaiting further instructions.

"Why clothes?" the boy said at last.

"Because on my way here, I heard a maid talking about her household needing new servants," Carlisle explained. "She wasn't much older than you. If I take you to that house and put in a good word, you might each get a position. It'll be hard work at first, but you'll have a roof over your heads, and that'll be important as the winter grows colder."

"Why are you helping us?" the girl whispered, and Carlisle wondered if she was really younger than her brother, or if she endeavored to make herself look as young and small as possible to avoid the unwanted attentions of the sort of men who preyed on unprotected women.

"Because I used to wear rags just like yours," Carlisle said honestly, never mind that he'd been immortal and eating rats to quench his thirst at the time. "It took a long time, but now I don't have to worry about being hungry ever again. So I try to help people whose lot is as hard as mine used to be."

The boy and girl looked at each other for a moment, and then the girl nodded. The boy turned back to Carlisle. "Where can we buy proper servant clothes?"

Carlisle took them to a clothing stall and bought them things about their size, but a bit bigger, because with proper food, they'd both be growing taller and sturdier soon. Then he followed the scent of the maid back to the house she'd come from, and told the servant that answered the door that the children were distant cousins of his, looking for work. The servant, impressed by the now well-dressed children, accepted them immediately, and before they parted, Carlisle slipped the boy the cross.

"For you and your sister to share," he said quietly. "To remind you that life can get better, with a bit of luck and hard work."

The boy nodded, his eyes brimming with tears. "I can't thank you enough, sir."

"Don't worry about that," Carlisle said. "Just try to help someone else in similar straits one day, if you can."

Without a word, the boy's sister took Carlisle's hand and kissed it, apparently not bothered by its unnatural chill.

"It's Christmas," she whispered, "so you must be an angel."

Carlisle smiled sadly. "No, I'm no angel. I'm…something else. But I wish you well just the same."

By the time Carlisle left the house, it was getting dark; the sun set early in December. Vladimir was waiting for him, standing in the deep shadows of a building across the street.

"Really, I'm beginning to think you are after sainthood," Vladimir murmured, shaking his head at the house where Carlisle had left the children. "What if the master of that house turns out to be cruel? And even if they are trained in useful occupations, there are few great houses in this part of the world. Where will they go if this position doesn't go well? Perhaps this is a chance, but it is only one chance to better their station. If they fail, they will be begging on the streets again."

Carlisle shrugged. "One chance is better than none. Did you and Stefan buy the vase?"

Vladimir smiled. "Yes, Stefan took it home. I daresay we can fix it, given time and the right materials. You know, there's something in that which you should keep in mind, Carlisle. People, even our kind, are so easily broken, and they can't be put back together again. Objects are less treacherous, and their loss is less to be mourned. People can let you down, and life is rarely what you imagine it will be when you're young."

Carlisle frowned. "But what about Stefan? Surely you trust him not to let you down."

Vladimir smiled grimly. "Ah, but we have suffered through the same things, and survived many dangers together. I can count on him as I count on myself, but it is rare to have such comrades, and for a creature as unique as you...well, it may be impossible."

"Perhaps," Carlisle said thoughtfully, "or maybe I just have to work harder to find creatures like me."

Vladimir shrugged, looking bored. "Do as you like. Come now though, and tell us of what you've read since we saw you last. Books are the epitome of objects that are more reliable than people."

"Vladimir," Stefan called suddenly, the volume of his voice indicating that he was several blocks away, "come see what I've found."

Carlisle and Vladimir joined Stefan beside the dock that Carlisle had dived off of earlier that day to save the boy. Floating face down in the icy water was the body of a man, his skin gray and bloated with water.

"Ah," Vladimir said. "His scent is familiar."

"Yes," Stefan agreed. "He's a wanted man. Apparently, he's been robbing and murdering travelers of late. It seems that he met with a bad accident before he could leave town."

"My," Vladimir said, and Carlisle saw the two exchange a smile. "How very...unfortunate."

Carlisle smiled grimly. "You think me silly for bestowing charity on humans, yet you kill a murderer to protect the citizens of your temporary home? That seems like a double standard to me."

"No, no, you misunderstand our motivations," Stefan said with a smirk. "He was competition, you see."

"_We_ are the only ones who can commit murder in this town," Vladimir said. "Anyone who interferes with our supply of blood outside the official capacity of a proper executioner must be eliminated."

"Still, though I disagree with the method, you've done the people here a service," Carlisle said with a sad smile, "though I wish you'd taken him to the jail instead. Having him face human justice would have been a less sanguine sort of good deed."

Vladimir and Stefan both raised their eyebrows. "Is a deed good in and of itself, or does the motivation behind the deed matter?" Stefan asked. "Or are only the consequences important?"

"If we dispatch a murderer from this world, is that justice, or are we as bad as the man we've killed?" Vladimir said wryly.

"Worse, since we've been alive far longer and have killed far more humans," Stefan put in with a grin.

"So it's going to be a discussion of philosophy is it?" Carlisle said, joining the Romanians as they walked back toward their lodgings. "How about this then? I think that while the motivation behind a deed does matter, saving lives, even lives you might eventually end, was good of you. I know you don't see it that way—to you, you're just being practical—but I see it as a sign that you're still a part of this world, and you still care about what happens to the people in it, even if only as a potential future food source. You haven't lost your humanity entirely if you still think in terms of ending one life to save others."

"Hmm," Stefan said, sounding unconvinced. "Or maybe killing this man was just a lark, something to do, and we did not care who he was or what crimes he'd committed."

"We've killed for sport before, and we certainly will again," Vladimir said. "How does that equate with your conception of our innate goodness?"

"I wouldn't say that anyone is innately good," Carlisle argued. "You're not, I'm not, no one is. But no one is innately evil either, and I think that some actions do have an intrinsic goodness to them. Yes, you killed a man, and though I don't agree with doing so myself, you've saved that man's future victims from a painful death at his hand. Goodness, I think, means something different to everyone."

"Then to us, virtue is only a consequence of self-interest," Vladimir said with a shrug.

"Maybe," Carlisle acknowledged, "but I think that under the circumstances, it's virtue just the same, if a rather roundabout sort." _Or at least, that's what I'd like to believe, _he thought wearily.

"Us, virtuous?" Stefan mused.

"It's a Christmas miracle!" Vladimir announced, and the two laughed. Even Carlisle grinned reluctantly—he didn't like to think that two of his only friends were monsters. Rather, though they were capable of monstrous deeds, he preferred to think of how they were also capable of a small measure of goodness, if only now, at a time of year when all things seemed possible.


	267. Mercy

Hi everyone! This week's chapter is a bit dark, in that it deals with Jasper as a newborn, and how I think he might have approached his life with Maria when he first knew her and believed they were in love. (Also, this is kind of a creepy story to tell a kid, even when that kid is Nessie, who probably already knows the basics of Jasper's old life, but just imagine that Jasper sort of glossed over some of the grimmer details here.)

However, I like the idea that even early in his life, because of his gift, Jasper felt a wider range of emotions than most vampires, and this might have troubled him at times. In this chapter, what Jasper feels and what he thinks about the difference between his vampire and human lives leads him to do something a bit out of character, but I think it makes sense in that Jasper is still trying to figure out who and what he is at this point, and even though he loved Maria, he might still keep a few small secrets from her. Thanks as always for your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight" (Happy Belated Birthday to her, by the way), and I hope you have a very Happy New Year! :)

_1863_: Mercy

Jasper's POV

Taking a deep breath, inhaling the scent of blood and gunpowder, Jasper surveyed the battle field. It was dark, the moon obscured by clouds, and though a battle between humans had ended some hours ago, Jasper was far more concerned with the dead than with the living. In the few months that he'd been with Maria, Jasper had quickly become her most trusted lieutenant. Now, he was hunting a vampire from a rival army who'd been spotted in their territory, and was presumably a spy. They'd lost him a few hours ago, so rather than mustering all their forces to hunt down a single immortal, Maria had sent Jasper to track down the spy and destroy him before he could pass any information to their enemies.

His scent was easy enough to follow, and now Jasper paused, listening carefully for the telltale sounds of a vampire about to spring and attack. This battlefield was a dangerous place; it marked the border between Maria's territory and that of their closest neighbor, so being spotted here could be a death sentence. But suddenly, Jasper was pleased to find that he wouldn't have to go far to find the spy. There he was, standing in the middle of the field, digging through a pile of disturbed earth and human remains. Apparently, he was oblivious to Jasper's presence. Was he searching for something?

Of course, it didn't really matter. Just as the vampire leaned down and pulled something out of the dirt, Jasper raced behind him and grabbed the spy's head between his hands, prepared to twist it off. The man's relief at finding whatever was in his hand suddenly turned to terror and frustration.

"Wait!" the man hissed, and suddenly he didn't feel fearful so much as determined. "I have a last request!"

Jasper frowned. "You...what?"

"Please!" the man said quickly. "I know you have to kill me, but please, just let me ask for one thing first!"

Jasper hesitated. Admittedly, he hadn't been with Maria's army long, but this was the first time that any vampire had had the audacity to make a final request when he knew that he was about to have his head ripped off. And now, Jasper had made the mistake of actually pausing to listen to the spy.

Jasper scowled at himself. If he'd moved more quickly, the spy wouldn't have even had a chance to speak. He blamed his slowness on being so full; for the first time since becoming immortal, Jasper was very nearly sated, after draining almost half a company of Union soldiers with Maria earlier that night. Maybe Maria was right in her theory that bloodlust made a newborn faster and more focused on killing, for here he was, full almost to bursting and clearly distracted from his goal.

"Please, take this to my home," the man said, thrusting his hand forward. In his palm was a small golden cross on a worn chain. "My town, it's not far from here. This…it's an heirloom. It's been in my family forever. I can never see them again like this anyway, so I just...I lost this, when I died, and I came back to this battlefield to find it, so they'd at least have something to remember me by. Please, take it to them."

"Why should I?" Jasper said, his voice cold, but he was honestly curious.

The other vampire was feeling both sadness and amusement now—what a strange combination of emotions. "You're right. I don't even know why you paused in killing me. But you did pause. So maybe I think you're different than the rest of us. Maybe I think that even though you have to kill me, you'll show me a little mercy first."

Jasper frowned. "Mercy…" Had he ever shown an opponent mercy as a human soldier? In truth, he hadn't really had a chance. It was strange to consider now, but he didn't think he'd ever even killed anyone as a human, never mind that he'd made Major at such a young age. But now that Jasper thought about it, he supposed that he was somewhat merciful in this life, if you could call it that: he killed his enemies quickly, he never taunted them or gloried in their fall as some fighters did. Perhaps doing an errand for this man (who probably wasn't even a spy—he'd just had the bad luck to attract Maria's attention in the wrong place at the wrong time) wasn't totally unprecedented.

"Where does your family live?" Jasper asked, not removing his hands from the sides of the man's head.

The other vampire quickly named a nearby village—it wasn't really a town, just a loose collection of houses huddled together in the middle of nowhere.

"All right," Jasper said. "Drop the cross and I'll take it, after."

The man didn't need to ask what 'after' meant. He was resigned now. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Just then, Jasper heard Maria coming—he caught her scent too before he saw her, and she smiled brightly at him as she stopped beside the other vampire, placed her hands over Jasper's, and twisted his head off. They quickly ripped him apart, and while Jasper leaned down to make a fire, he was able to pick up the cross and casually slip it into his pocket. Right then and there, he decided that he would do what the other vampire had asked, and who knew: maybe he could complete the errand without killing anyone. Killing soldiers and even grown human men was one thing, but Jasper had so far managed to avoid feeding on women and children. In truth, the thought pained him somehow, but he told himself that he was simply being practical. Why kill someone so small and weak that their blood would do nothing to quench his thirst?

"You followed me," Jasper said, pleased that she'd apparently been worried about him.

"I can't afford to lose my right hand hunting a single spy," she said with a warm smile, stroking the sides of his face with her hands, but her feelings were curious. "What were you doing anyway?"

"He said he had information to give me that might be useful, but it wasn't anything we didn't already know," Jasper said, not sure why he was lying to Maria except that she'd probably tease him mercilessly if he told her the truth. "The other armies in the area are getting restless, so as you said earlier tonight, we should probably make our move tomorrow."

Maria smiled. "Well done, my love. Then our campaign shall proceed as planned."

"Shall we head back then?" Jasper asked, eager for a few hours alone with Maria before they needed to prepare for the next night's attack.

"We've got one more job to do before the sun rises," Maria said, smiling at Jasper, and he knew from what she was feeling that he was going to be amused and mildly exasperated. "Our latest fighters need some new clothing."

It amused Jasper at times, that Maria insisted on things like clothes for the newborns. It wasn't as though they really needed them the way humans did, to protect their fragile bodies from the elements, but Maria was adamant about being inconspicuous. Humans who saw them were generally killed, but on those rare occasions that a neighboring army ventured too close to a town, Maria wanted her fighters to at least appear human in their dress. Jasper didn't quite understand the need for secrecy: why not kill every human who spotted them, feast on their blood, and never worry about getting caught? But Maria was unyielding when it came to doing things carefully.

"Armies that fight without any concern for the human casualties they leave in their wake never last long," she'd told him once. "Eventually, someone notices that a family, or a village, or an entire town has been wiped from the face of the earth, and then the army that did it is destroyed as well. As time goes on, you'll hear more stories about this part of the world, and the wars that have gone on quietly and not so quietly for many years, but all of them end in the same lesson: keep our kind a secret, and you stay alive. Risk exposing our secret, and you die. It's as simple as that."

"But it's not as if there's a shortage of humans out there," Jasper had argued. "Secrecy aside, all I'm saying is why not let our fighters hunt more often? If we're smart, if we're careful-"

"First," Maria had told him, "they fight better if they're always a bit hungry. They fight with desperation, and with the desire to live long enough to have their thirst quenched by a human again. And second, there are all kinds of stories about creatures that used to roam the earth which are almost lost to memory now, birds and beasts that were even more common than humans. If other animals can disappear, so can humans, and none of our kind would ever want to live in a world like that."

Jasper pondered Maria's words, as he often did, while he raced through the very village that the immortal, now a pile of ashes, had named an hour ago. Already, there was a heap of stolen clothes for the newborns in Jasper's arms, and now he was on his way to deliver the golden cross before Maria could notice his absence. He wasn't sure why he was so determined to do something so trivial, but he guessed that it was a kind of test: he was in Maria's army now, but the idea that a promise still meant something mattered to Jasper.

The small piece of gold in his pocket, Jasper had decided, was a link between his human life and his life as an immortal. Maria had said on more than one occasion that once you were immortal, then you would never change much from the way you'd been when you'd been turned. Jasper knew that he _had_ changed in some ways—he'd grown more violent certainly, more cold and callous, because that was the only way to survive, and the only way to protect Maria. But Jasper wondered if some of the human soldier was still in him: the man that wouldn't deny a last request like this, since it was such an easy matter to accomplish.

The house that the soldier had indicated was humble, but Jasper could hear voices inside, and they sounded happy. There were sounds of celebration throughout the town, and Jasper realized that people were sitting down to dinner on the last day of the year. Jasper smiled at the thought of that.

_If the man I was this time last year could see me today, I wonder what he'd think?_ he mused, quickly slipping the cross under the door and then hopping up onto the roof when a voice inside announced that they'd seen something move. Inside, the house was silent for several moments, and then a woman started to cry. Someone opened the door and looked out, but Jasper made sure he wasn't seen.

"It's a miracle," someone whispered. "Pa's spirit brought this home to us, to show us things'll be better next year!"

Jasper smiled grimly at that. Perhaps 1864 would be a good year for these people: it would be a bad year for any enemies of Maria, or at least it would be if he had anything to say about it. But his thoughts of battle were quickly quelled by the feelings of the people below him. Maria claimed that this was a gift, to be able to feel what others felt and even manipulate their emotions, but just then, all Jasper felt was a kind of helpless grief mixed with a strange sense of hope and longing for something unknown, something ineffable.

_I'm no good spirit_, he thought suddenly, jumping off the roof and running back toward the street where he'd agreed to meet Maria with the clothes he'd gathered. He knew that he needed to get away before these intense emotions could disturb him further, or before his thirst (which was already returning) could lead him to kill the very people he'd just delivered a keepsake to. Then he stopped moving, wondering if he shouldn't kill them after all—the supposed miracle they'd just witnessed wasn't exactly in keeping with Maria's ideas about being inconspicuous.

Jasper frowned. The people inside the humble house…he realized that they'd reminded him of his own family, and perhaps his own lost humanity. He didn't hate Maria for what she'd done to him, but for the first time since his transformation, something penetrated beyond the haze of bloodlust. For just a moment, he was conscious of what he'd lost; he knew that he wasn't just sharing the feelings of loss of the family inside the house, but rather feeling loss himself for another life, one that was gone now, never to return.

An instant later, Jasper took a deep breath, feeling his throat burn a little at the smell of humans in the houses all around him, and then he disappeared into the darkness. He ran away from the house and the grieving family inside, knowing that he wasn't human anymore, and why should he feel any sense of loss at that? He was no longer so weak, so vulnerable to sorrow and physical decay. He had Maria now, Maria and her love, her ambition, and her sense of purpose that gave his own life meaning. And that was enough. Jasper vowed then that in the future, he wouldn't be swayed so easily by any misplaced sense of mercy.


	268. Trinket

Hi everyone! Today's chapter continues to follow the golden cross; eventually, I'll get back to my usual thing, but for now, I'm enjoying writing this story arc and having things happen in chronological order for a change. :) So, this week, Edward gets his first glimpse of the necklace, and next week, I'm hoping to have two chapters ready, one starring Esme and a shorter one focusing on Alice. Thanks as always for your reviews, and for continuing to read after all this time (and yes, I still take reader requests, so let me know if you'd like to read a certain kind of story, and I'll try to get to it before "Eternity" ends a few months from now). I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and seriously, have you seen the Carlisle and Esme Twilight Barbies? They're really cute! :)

_1919_: Trinket

Edward's POV

Carlisle and I were out walking one afternoon when I noticed the necklace in the window of an antique shop. We were back in Chicago, temporarily at least, so that Carlisle could find a new job, and we were passing through a neighborhood I'd frequented when I'd been alive. As such, I kept the collar of my coat pulled up, and between a hat and scarf, most of my face was concealed. It was a chilly afternoon, and most people were in a hurry to get to their destinations (and thus get out of the wind), but not feeling the cold, I paused.

"Edward?" Carlisle called, turning back to see what had stopped me. "What is it?"

"Nothing," I said, starting to turn away. "Just something I saw in a shop window. It reminded me..."

But now Carlisle was the one staring at the window, his expressed startled. _I bought that once, didn't I?_ he wondered, moving closer to better examine the cross.

"It used to belong to you?" I said incredulously, looking from him to the necklace.

"It certainly looks exactly like something I bought centuries ago, when I was visiting Stefan and Vladimir in a city by the Black Sea," Carlisle said. "I bought it because of how it looks. It's rather...memorable. When I was a boy, my father wore a cross shaped like that one, though his was made of wood." Suddenly, Carlisle glanced at me. "I'm sorry, I interrupted you before. What did seeing this necklace remind you of?"

"My mother," I said slowly. "On one of her last good days, before I fell ill and we all went to the hospital, we walked past this shop together. I remember her admiring that necklace, and thinking that I should buy it for her, as a birthday gift."

Carlisle smiled sadly. "I see. Shall we go take a closer look?"

I shrugged noncommittally and followed Carlisle into the shop; at least he'd learned by now to quit apologizing for the deaths of my parents. Carlisle saying he was sorry for my loss didn't make it any less terrible, and it would never bring them back. But in spite of my indifferent expression, I was curious to find out if the necklace had really once been Carlisle's. It would be very strange, if my mother had been drawn to something he'd once owned before my family had ever encountered Dr. Cullen, when we'd all still been alive...

"Can I help you?" the man at the counter said, clearly guessing from our clothes (expensive and well-tailored) that we might be actual customers, not just two men who'd come inside to get out of the wind.

"I was wondering if I could ask you about that necklace you have displayed in the window," Carlisle said. "Could you tell me where it came from?"

"Ah, it's a very old piece, seventeenth or eighteenth century, I believe," the man said, hurrying to the window and retrieving the necklace, gleaming on its little velvet display, so that we could get a closer look. "Eastern European in origin, made by a very skilled jeweler. Gold is easy to shape, but the design of this particular cross is very distinctive. It's modeled after the simple sort of cross that many Protestants wore during Cromwell's time in England, which is indeed a very simple, unassuming sort of cross that you still see today. But this piece is unique though, because the gold has been made to look like wood. It's an interesting juxtaposition, shaping a precious metal to look like something much more humble. See, the lines here are meant to resemble the grains you see in wood. Up close, you can clearly see that it's gold, but from a distance, it might pass for wood, or at least a baser metal, if it weren't for the shine. Actually, before I was sold this piece and was able to properly clean it, it was a bit dirty, as if someone had hoped to disguise it as a wooden cross. Perhaps...well, maybe the woman who brought it in was afraid of having it stolen."

"If you don't mind my asking," Carlisle said, "who sold it to you?"

"A woman, last year," the man said slowly, his expression growing somber. "She cleaned house for a family, and most of them took ill with the flu. The matriarch of the family gave it to her, and after telling her that it had been in the family for generations, she told the poor woman to sell it and get out of town before she fell ill too. She had a letter from her employer to that effect, so I knew it wasn't stolen. Still, it's a sad thing for a family to lose an heirloom like this. I've kept it in the window, thinking that one of them might have recovered, and could eventually come back for it, but I guess none of them did. It was a terrible time, as you'll no doubt recall if you were here this time last year. Many people sold antiques like this to try and make some traveling money before leaving the city, but I wonder how many of them made it. There was sickness in the suburbs too, after all..."

I sensed Carlisle nodding beside me while I kept my gaze locked on a shelf of antique books nearby. All my energy was going into keeping my expression under control. It was an almost physical pain, and maybe it always would be, to think of my parents as we'd all fallen ill, as we'd slowly approached death together…

"Sometimes it seems like a miracle that any of us are still here, when I think back to last year," the man said quietly, but then he seemed to rouse himself from his own sad memories of 1918 (he'd lost family then too), and he remembered that he was a salesman trying to make a sale. "So, what do you think?"

"I think I'll take it," Carlisle said, and I knew from his thoughts that yes, this cross was exactly the one he'd thought it was. I wondered if he might be mistaken—after all, what were the odds that this was really the same necklace he'd bought and given away to some street urchin over two centuries ago?

"It's surprising, how little it's changed in two hundred years," Carlisle said, examining the necklace with a surgeon's precision before he replaced the lid on the box that the antique shop owner had placed it in. We were hurrying back toward our apartment now, trying to look like the humans still on the street who despised the chilly wind that cut through their clothes and made their eyes and noses stream. I tightened my scarf and tried not to think about the fact that I didn't feel anything—I often thought that it would be worth it, to feel things like pain and cold, if I could just be alive again.

"And it's really the same necklace?" I said at last. I was trying to maintain my usual degree of apathy (which, in truth, worried Carlisle more than my fits of rage), but the puzzle of the necklace was an intriguing one. "How did it get here from Europe?"

"The same way I did, essentially," Carlisle said, pulling a piece of paper from the same pocket that held the box—it was the letter that the woman who'd sold the necklace had brought with her from its most recent owner. "According to this, the family slowly moved across Europe over several generations before immigrating to America in the 19th century. They lived in New York for a generation or so before heading west, eventually settling in Texas, then California. The last descendent of the original owner was a woman named Mary, and she and her husband moved to Chicago when his father died and they inherited his share in a meatpacking plant. Mary writes that this necklace was always considered a good luck charm in her family." Carlisle frowned. "It seems its luck finally ran out."

"In that case, it worked approximately two hundred years longer than most good luck charms do," I said, rolling my eyes. "Carlisle, you can't save everyone. From what I've heard of the kids you originally gave that necklace to, they probably would have died if you hadn't helped them. You couldn't have known then how their descendents would end up, and even if you had, you couldn't have stopped the flu from happening."

"I know," Carlisle said quietly, glancing at me. "But for their sake, and yours, I wish I could have."

I looked down at my shoes as we walked. It was so hard to stay angry at Carlisle, because his feelings of sympathy for my situation, and his guilt at not having prevented it, were genuine. It would have been so much easier to hate him if he hadn't grieved for the life I'd lost almost as much as I did…because Carlisle had had a life too, once, and he knew what it felt like to have that taken away.

"Here," Carlisle said, offering me the box. "Would you like to have it?"

"I don't have anyone to give it to now," I said with a shrug, trying to keep the usual bitterness out of my tone. I even managed to smile a little. "You keep it. I'm sure you'll find someone else to give it to someday—a girl, maybe."

Carlisle smiled a sad, self-deprecating smile. "I doubt that very much," he said wryly, but he put the box containing the necklace back in his pocket, and I wondered, before I could stop myself, who the trinket might belong to next.


	269. Treasure

Hi everyone! Today's first chapter shows Esme's introduction to the golden cross—I like to think that Carlisle would have given it to her as a gift early in their relationship, more as a gesture of friendship (or so Esme thinks) than any kind of romantic overture. Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, and I'll see you again with a second chapter later tonight! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and is anyone getting the extended version of "Breaking Dawn" Part 1 when it comes out? I'm kind of curious, but since it's only eight extra minutes, I'm not really sure…(Unless all eight minutes focus on Carlisle and Esme, I guess I'll probably pass. :))

_1921_: Treasure

Esme's POV

Though she paused once as she walked past the open door of a bar (wondering at the fact that rather odoriferous humans now made her throat burn with thirst, while the bakery a few blocks back produced smells that were totally unappetizing), Esme made it home safely. Or rather, she made it home without killing anyone. Edward was there, waiting for her, and he was smiling, clearly pleased that she had done so well resisting temptation. Esme, for her part, was less enthused by what she considered her slow progress.

Esme had only been a vampire for about three months, and thought Carlisle was very encouraging, and eager to make her feel like she wasn't trapped in the house they shared in the woods, Esme knew that she was still very new to this strange life, and thus still very dangerous. She rarely ventured outside, except to hunt, and today was only the second time she'd ever gone into town on her own. At least, she'd seemed to be alone.

"So, how was your walk?" Edward asked, as if he didn't know.

"Just fine, thank you," Esme said, removing her hat and giving him a look. "I know you were following me, though."

Edward raised the book in his hand in a posture of wounded innocence. "Following you? No, I've been sitting here reading all afternoon. Just ask the mouse I just startled. I think there must be something wrong with its sense of smell, since it made the mistake of building a nest in a house full of vampires."

"I could smell you, when the wind changed when I passed by the general store," Esme said, taking off her coat and joining Edward in the living room. "I know it's to make sure that I can really be around people safely, but how will we ever know if I'm really safe around anyone if you and Carlisle are always with me, protecting me?"

"At this point, we're still protecting the townspeople from _you_," Edward said gently. "But, we trust you enough that we're not asking you go everywhere with a visible chaperone."

Esme adjusted the hem of her skirt. "I just feel bad, making you both worry, and making you both have to take time out of your day when I want to get out of the house. But I know we have to be careful. My throat still burns too much to actually go inside any of the shops, but at least I feel like I can be out in the open air for a little while, even if there are humans nearby."

"You need to practice breathing more though," Edward suggested. "When I followed you today, I noticed that you were only pretending."

"Well, it's still hard!" Esme said, trying not to sound as frustrated as she felt. "I thought it would be easier, because I just fed yesterday, but it still burned as badly as the day before, and sometimes I worry that it's always going to be this difficult! I mean, maybe I'm just not like you and Carlisle, Edward. Maybe I just shouldn't go out around people, just to be safe."

"..I'm sorry," Edward said after a moment's pause, "I didn't mean to criticize. I was only speaking from experience—the sooner you start breathing for real, the faster you'll live to learn with the burning."

"But what if I don't have your self control?" Esme murmured. "The longer I inhale the scent of humans, the more I think that I'm about to snap and—and attack someone."

"You just have to keep telling yourself that you won't do it, no matter what," Edward said. Suddenly, he smiled. "Would you prefer Carlisle go with you on your walk tomorrow?"

"Of course not," Esme said staring at her shoes. "After he's been working all day? He shouldn't have to do that."

"Well, you _do _seem more self-conscious when he's the one following you," Edward conceded, smiling slightly, and Esme smiled a little in return, glad that she and Edward were getting along well enough for him to tease her. Edward, she'd learned by now, was a very serious young man, so any show of brevity had to be taken not as an actual attempt to tease so much as an offer of friendship, which Esme was glad to accept.

"And no, I won't ever tell him that," Edward said before Esme could ask him to please be discreet. She was so happy just to be under the same roof as Carlisle, to get to see him and talk with him every day, and she didn't want to spoil that by revealing any affection he couldn't possibly return.

The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. Esme and Edward talked about the books they were reading, about Edward's plans for going back to school soon, (once Esme was a bit more accustomed to life as a vampire, her thirst not so all-consuming), and soon it was growing dark outside, and Carlisle was home.

"Good evening," Carlisle said, smiling as he hung up his hat and coat.

"Hello," Esme said, grinning in return; it was impossible not to whenever she saw him. "How was your day?"

"Fine, I suppose," Carlisle said with a weary shrug. "There are good moments and bad moments in every day, and I suppose this one had more good than bad. Did you take a walk today?"

"Yes, and it went fine, but according to Edward, I need to start practicing breathing at some point," Esme said with a sigh. "The prospect of actually..._smelling_ people up close still scares me a little though."

"I can go with you this Saturday, if you'd like," Carlisle offered. "If the weather will cooperate, that is."

"Thank you, I'd enjoy that very much," Esme said quickly, worrying as she often did at similar moments that she was either being excessively polite to Carlisle or else not polite enough. Then she looked around. Edward seemed to make himself scarce at times like this, when she and Carlisle first greeted each other at the beginning of an evening, and she would have asked him why, except she guessed that he didn't want her to feel even more self-conscious than she already did, talking to Carlisle like this. Whatever Edward's reason, she appreciated the gesture.

"I...well, I've been meaning to give you something," Carlisle said suddenly, pulling a small box from his pocket. "Edward told me, since you had to sell yours when you were traveling, you might like to have some jewelry..."

He opened the box to reveal a small golden cross, beautifully shaped to resemble antique wood. It looked very old and rather delicate—Esme was almost afraid to touch it.

"Oh, it's beautiful," Esme whispered. "But I—are you sure you want me to have this? It looks like an antique…"

"Yes," Carlisle said immediately. "I—I can't think of anyone I'd be happier to see wear it."

"Try it on, Esme," Edward suggested, suddenly reappearing in the room, so Esme held perfectly still while Carlisle helped her with the clasp, her fingers tingling when their hands briefly touched. Esme smiled at her reflection in the hallway mirror, and met Carlisle's eyes for a moment, grateful that she could no longer blush. Esme didn't think of herself as particularly religious, and having Carlisle this close to her certainly didn't encourage pious thoughts, but she was exceedingly happy with the gift.

"Thank you," she said warmly. "I'll wear it every day."

"I—I'm glad you like it," Carlisle said. "It is an antique, actually—would you like to hear a little about where it came from?"

"I'd love to," Esme said, touching the delicate gold at her throat. She couldn't stop smiling as she walked beside Carlisle into the living room. Esme already knew that wherever the cross had come from, whatever its history, because it had been a gift from Carlisle, she would always treasure it.


	270. Glimpse

Hi everyone! This week's second chapter focuses on Alice's introduction to the gold cross. I like the idea that during her years living alone, Alice got to know the Cullens and kept her spirits up thanks to little glimpses she had of her future family—thus the title of this chapter. Thanks once again for all your really great reviews—I'll be back again next week with another chapter about the golden cross, plus a new chapter of "Stregoni Benefici, Unico" if you also read my story about Carlisle. Also, since people often ask if I've ever written about how Carlisle and Esme got together, please check out my first story, "I'm Always In Love" to read about that. :) Have a great week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I bought the Carlisle Barbie with Christmas money! Now I just have to save up for the Esme Barbie. (Sigh…I just have to keep reminding myself that I'm actually twenty-five years old, I'm really an adult in spite of all evidence to the contrary…:))

_1921_: Glimpse

Alice's POV

Crouching in a field after draining the blood of a man who'd tried to rob her (and worse), Alice decided to wait until nightfall to continue traveling. She could see, with the extra sense that she was just beginning to understand, that other people would soon pass along the dirt road a few yards away, and though the evening was mostly cloudy, she didn't want to risk anyone seeing the way her skin caught the light of the sun and refracted it back in weird patterns that reminded her of the facets of a jewel. Alice also didn't want anyone to see the blood she'd gotten on her shirt when she'd eaten.

Taking a deep breath, Alice closed her eyes. She didn't like killing people, and she would certainly stop as soon as she was able, but she'd discovered since she'd awoken to find herself alone that humans, men especially, tended to deem her helpless thanks to her gender and her stature. It didn't help that her expression was probably dreamy whenever she examined the visions that flitted through her head, and that was often, so people saw her as an easy target. When they tried to hurt her, if she so much as raised a hand to defend herself, bones were shattered, blood was drawn, and then all Alice knew was the terrible thirst inside her. But she was getting better, she was certain of that.

For the first few days and weeks of this new life, she hadn't been sure that the things she saw in her head were really about to happen. She tested things, took different routes and made things change, and gradually she realized that she could change the future she saw, and so could the humans who crossed her path. As the months went by, Alice learned that the things she saw didn't always happen, but they were likely outcomes, depending on a variety of circumstances and motivations. However, Alice found that she could still be surprised.

The man she'd just killed had caught her off guard because he hadn't started his evening walk with any intention to kill anyone. Then he'd seen her though, in her ill-fitting clothes and a distant look on her face, and he'd called out to her, had tried to sound friendly. And she'd let him get close, because she'd seen what he was going to try to do, and she'd decided that it was his own fault if he got hurt trying to hurt her. She hadn't meant to kill him, she'd only wanted to scare him, to test her growing ability to get closer to humans without feeling like she was dying of thirst...

Alice opened her eyes and watched the sun sink below the horizon, hardly daring to move, let alone breathe, as a group of young men passed in front of her on the road, talking and laughing. She'd already buried the body of the man she'd killed (Or was it 'eaten'? 'Drank'? She was still trying to figure out the right words to describe what she did now), but the blood that stuck to her skin and shirt was cool now, sticky and faintly irritating, and it made her hyper aware of the corpse; of the position she'd buried him in, sort of curled in on himself; the expression on his face when she'd killed him and how it had slackened, gradually, as his face had grown pale and nearly all his blood had slid down her throat...

Alice bit back a whimper. She had a feeling that the only thing keeping her sane now was the knowledge that it wouldn't always be like this. Someday, she'd have a family, she'd have love, she'd have Jasper...but it scared her to even imagine how bleak life would be if she didn't know what was coming, that all she had to do was wait and hope and she would find them, and when she did, she would be well on her way to having almost perfect control of herself. She wouldn't be a killer then, more animal than girl. She would have to help Jasper, because even now, his life was savage like this, and he hated it too, hated to feel whatever someone felt as they were dying…

And then Alice saw it: a flash of gold, like a final glimpse of sunshine as darkness fell, but it was in her head, not a real piece of gold...a glimpse of Jasper's hair? No…it was a necklace, shaped like a cross, and it was hanging around the neck of one of the Cullens.

_Esme_, Alice realized. _That's Esme_. She was with Carlisle, and they both looked happy. They were watching Edward do something—playing the piano, maybe? The vision disappeared as suddenly as it had come, but now, as Alice set off walking again in the dark, she was smiling. These little glimpses of the people she would one day share her life with were what kept her going, were what made her certain that one day, she wouldn't be a killer anymore. She would be a Cullen, and that was worth the wait.


	271. Effort

Hi everyone! This week's chapter shows Rosalie's first encounter with the golden cross; it seems to me that initially, Esme would have been Rosalie's only reason for staying with the Cullens—she hated Carlisle for turning her into a vampire, and she didn't like Edward much either, but I feel like her relationship with Esme was the one thing she was glad to have in her new life. Thanks as always for your reviews; I'm always amazed and flattered when people take the time to read every chapter of a story that's gotten this long, so thanks to everyone who keeps reading! I've got a couple more chapters like this one, and then we'll get back to some Carlisle and Esme fluff, so stay tuned. :) See you next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm really looking forward to seeing "Breaking Dawn" Part 2 again; I kind of want to see it in theaters one more time, so I need to try and make that happen (maybe next weekend?)

_1935_: Effort

Rosalie's POV

After killing Royce and his almost equally loathsome friends, Rosalie had gone back to the Cullens. She wasn't exactly sure why, except that she couldn't go home to her family, she didn't particularly want to find other vampires to socialize with, and because Esme at least had seemed like someone Rosalie wouldn't mind getting to know. So, she'd gone back to them in a tattered wedding dress and no one had asked any questions; Esme had drawn her a bath and brought her a change of clothes, and then she'd retired to the room that had been designated as hers.

For a few days after her return, she stayed in her room and lay on the bed she no longer needed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing that she could sleep for a thousand years. When she woke up, maybe she would be someone new, someone who didn't remember how her life had ended. Or maybe it would be better still to go to sleep and never wake up...

Esme was the only one who visited her, for which she was grateful. Though she hated the idea of Edward rummaging around in her head, he could apparently hear that if anyone else came into her room, she would likely throw them out the window. Esme brought her clothes she thought she might like, or books she might like to read, and though she largely ignored these offerings, she was touched by Esme's persistence. Rosalie's favorite times were when Esme simply came in and sat with her. She didn't say a word, she just sat in the chair beside the bed, and Rosalie sometimes felt like she was a little girl again, in bed with a fever while her mother watched over her.

"...why do you keep coming in here, every day?" Rosalie finally asked, rolling over to face Esme after she'd been sitting silently for nearly an hour one sunny morning. "How do you know I'm not always going to feel this wretched about my miserable excuse for a life?"

"Well, for one thing, you're finally talking again," Esme said with a gentle smile. "If you were really going to be miserable forever, I don't think you'd bother asking me any questions. And it wouldn't matter to you one way or another if I came in here. But you don't mind, do you? I mean, if you minded, you could have easily thrown me out by now."

"I wouldn't do that," Rosalie muttered. "You're...this isn't your fault."

"It isn't yours either, Rosalie," Esme said quietly. "Which is why I know that eventually, you're going to leave this room and try to have a life again. And I'll be ready whenever you are, to help however I can."

Rosalie didn't speak, but clearly her expression told Esme everything she needed to know. Without a word, Esme sat down on the bed and pulled Rosalie into a fierce hug, and then Rosalie couldn't stop, she cried for what felt like hours, wishing that she could still feel the cathartic sensation of tears. Rosalie had never cried like this, not when she was a girl and she'd had a bad dream, or when she'd been older and a classmate had died in an accident. She had never felt as terrible as she did right now...because Royce was dead, and she wasn't. She'd killed him because she'd hated him, but revenge hadn't brought her the peace she'd hoped for. Rosalie had broken him far more easily than he'd broken her...but Esme's horrible husband had put the pieces of her back together. Now, she had to try and live with what had happened, live with the creature she'd become, and she wondered if she would have even tried, if it hadn't been for Esme.

Finally, she pulled away. "I'm not speaking to either of them," she said, expecting her voice to be shaky, but of course it was as strong as ever, even after all her sobs. "I'll...I'll come downstairs sometimes, but I don't want to talk with them."

"Okay," Esme said. "I'll tell them."

Rosalie made a face. "Why bother? I'm sure Edward will hear it before he even enters the house tonight."

"They care about you too, you know," Esme said gently, pushing back a bit of Rosalie's hair.

Rosalie scowled. "I irritate Edward, and—and I'm not going to say the other one's name, even if he is your husband."

Esme smiled a little. "That's okay. You can just call him "your husband" when you mention him to me, and I won't mind."

"I'm thirsty," Rosalie announced with a grimace, getting off the bed and looking in her closet for new clothes—she'd been wearing her current dress for days. "Let's go hunting tonight. And then I suppose we'll have to move, since we can't risk anyone from Rochester seeing me."

"We're already looking for a new house," Esme said, standing up too. "It never takes long to settle in somewhere new. You should help us look, so you'll be sure to like the place."

Rosalie snorted as she examined a new dress. "I won't "like" any place, but I suppose I can help choose a house I won't hate." Turning, she looked at Esme. "I should take a shower. My hair's starting to smell. But don't think I'm coming downstairs until it's dark. I mean it—just because I'm tired of staying in bed all day doesn't mean I think I have anything worth getting up for. It's just—I'd rather be doing something than be bored and miserable all the time."

Esme smiled warmly. "Well, I can certainly help with that. We can sew, read, go shopping—oh, I almost forgot."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "I thought vampires never forgot anything."

"They don't," Esme said, pulling something out of her apron pocket. "But it's a useful expression—it makes us seem more human. Here."

Esme offered Rosalie a small golden necklace. "A cross?" Rosalie wondered. "I'm not religious, you know—not anymore."

"Neither am I, really," Esme admitted. "I like the art and I like some of the sentiments, but otherwise, I doubt that Christianity is for me anymore. But this was the first piece of jewelry I had after starting this new life, and I want you to have it, if only to tide you over until we can get you some things that are more to your taste."

Rosalie hesitated, looking at the necklace. "If it's important to you, then why are you giving it to me when I don't even care about the sentiment behind it?"

"Because you're important to me now, Rosalie, and this is what friends do. We give each other gifts, some of them not what the receiver really wants, to try and show how much we care. It's never enough really, but I know that you're trying your best to start over, so I guess I want this to remind you that I'm going to try hard too. If we make an effort, Rosalie, then…well, dying doesn't have to be the end. Maybe you can find a new kind of life, even like this."

Rosalie hesitated, but then she nodded and lifted her hair away from the back of her neck. "Will you put it on for me?"

Standing with her back to Esme, she smiled a little at their reflections in the mirror beside the dressing table when she saw the golden cross around her neck. She _was _beautiful now, even with her hair a mess after days of lying in bed. And she and Esme were going to be friends, and try to do their best for each other. It wasn't the life she'd wanted, but perhaps it would be better than having no life at all.

_Well, maybe someday I'll really feel that way_, Rosalie thought grimly. _Until I do though, I'll at least make an effort to pretend. For her sake. _


	272. Angel

Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update, but last night, my computer kept making noises like it was about to explode (I wish I were kidding), so I figured it needed the night off. Today's chapter is the second to last story in this arc about the golden cross; next time, Nessie will try to imagine where the cross might go in the future, but this week, we see how Emmett first noticed the cross and how, as he got to know Rosalie a little better in the days after he was changed, he might have asked about it. Thanks for all your reviews, and just FYI: I'm going to go back next weekend and fix a few typos here and there (yeah, I don't think I'm going to have time today)—thanks to everyone who's noticed problems with dates and other details, because I don't always catch my mistakes, so I'm glad you guys do! :) See you next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm really looking forward to the graphic novel version of "New Moon." (The movie version of "The Host" should be really fun too, and I guess she's working on a sequel, so maybe next year or the year after, we'll have a new Stephenie Meyer book! It's hard to wait though... :))

_1935_: Angel

Emmett's POV

Standing in the sunshine in the forest behind the Cullens' house, Emmett continued to try and accept that he was really a vampire, even though he was standing over the carcass of a dead deer in broad daylight and not bursting into flames. It had been an unsettling few days to say the least, but Emmett was glad that at least now, standing here with blood all over his shirt and face, he wasn't alone. Esme was standing a few yards away, obviously trying very hard not to laugh at him.

"Okay," she said kindly. "That was...much better than last time."

Emmett laughed. "Um, I'm still covered in blood here. How is that better exactly?"

"Well, you didn't get quite as much blood on yourself this time," Esme said firmly. "And your shirt's still...well, parts of it are still intact. So, that's progress."

Emmett chuckled. "Thanks for the encouragement, but I'm still thirsty, even after six deer. Is that bad?"

Esme smiled and tossed him a towel, which he used to dry himself off. Then she handed him a clean shirt. "We're all that thirsty in the beginning, but it doesn't last forever. Come on, let's find you some more deer."

Carlisle was at work, Rosalie and Edward were at school, so it was just Esme watching Emmett hunt today. They lived far enough out in the woods that he hadn't had to smell any humans since he'd been changed, which everyone seemed relieved about. Apparently, the Cullens were trying to avoid having that happen for as long as possible—because of his size, Emmett knew he'd be next to impossible for them to control if he went as crazy as they said he would when he smelled a human.

"Other than the thirst, how do you feel about all this?" Esme asked gently, her voice calm and unlabored even as they ran through the woods far faster than any car could move.

"Well, I miss my brothers, and my sister—you'd like my sister—and my parents," Emmett admitted, "but other than that, I can't really complain. I mean, it's thanks to Rosalie and Carlisle that I'm alive at all now. It's just...a lot to get used to."

Esme's voice (he couldn't see her thanks to the line of trees between them) was sympathetic. "We'll do all we can to help your family, Emmett. I'm just happy that you seem to be getting used to ours. At least, I like to think that we aren't driving you crazy just yet."

Emmett laughed. "Hey, what's not to like? You and Carlisle seem like pretty great parents, and Edward's a good guy, even with the creepy mind-reading thing, and Rosalie..."

Emmett stopped, because he wasn't sure what he could safely say about Rosalie.

"You don't see her as a sister," Esme said gently. "She likes you, you know. To have carried you so far without killing you herself...well, I think she likes you very much."

Emmett grinned at the thought of that. "I like her too, and not just because she saved my life. Did she tell you the stupid thing I said when I first got here?"

"I don't think so," Esme said, sounding amused. "What did you say?"

Emmett rolled his eyes at his own words. "This is gonna sound really bad, but...I told her that as soon as she picked me up, I knew she must be an angel."

Esme laughed. "Emmett, I'm sure she was very flattered. That wasn't a stupid thing to think—I mean, I felt basically the same about Carlisle when I first opened my eyes as a vampire and he was there to explain everything to me. Of course," her voice suddenly took on a teasing note, "wouldn't an angel have wings?"

"It's not like I was thinking very clearly at the time," Emmett said sheepishly, "and anyway, it sort of felt like we were flying, we were moving so fast. And she was wearing that cross—when Carlisle first told me that we're vampires, that part confused me a little."

"I'm not exactly sure how that myth got started," Esme said, "except that it probably comforted people to think that there was something they could do to protect themselves from vampires. But in the end, the cross is just a symbol. It only has as much power as people give it, and that's spiritual power, not literal power to repel us."

"It's sort of comforting, I guess," Emmett said. "I mean, I'm glad that I'm not dead, but I'm also glad that I'm not actually some kind of evil demon either."

"I'm always a little surprised that Rosalie still wears that cross," Esme said thoughtfully. "I gave it to her, but Carlisle gave it to me first, so I used to think she didn't really like it. I suppose I was wrong."

"I'll ask her about that when she gets home," Emmett said. Ever since he'd met her, he'd been looking for things to talk about with Rosalie—obviously he couldn't just stand around and stare at her like an idiot, or endlessly tell her how beautiful she was. It could be hard to think of things to say to a gorgeous woman who'd also saved your life.

Esme laughed suddenly. "Or you can ask her now. Rosalie!"

Suddenly, there she was, running beside them.

"Are you playing hooky?" Emmett asked, delighted at the very idea. He used to do the same thing all the time—here was another topic of conversation he could try.

She smiled at him. "Well, I thought you might still need some help with learning to hunt. Your shirt's still clean though, and it smells like you've already eaten. I'm impressed."

Emmett shrugged. "Yeah, this is actually my third shirt of the day."

Rosalie laughed. "Only your third—then I really am impressed. I'd thought you'd have gone through more than that by now."

"Well," Emmett said, "the day is young, and Esme still has lots of extra shirts in her bag, I think."

"I do," Esme said, her voice amused. "Other necessary articles of clothing too."

"Let's go destroy more of your clothes then," Rosalie said, and then her eyes widened. Emmett guessed that if she could have blushed, she would have. "Um...that came out wrong."

"I'm still thirsty, so it's probably inevitable," Emmett said quickly. He wasn't sure, but he thought that he could hear Esme choking back a laugh. Then, just to change the subject, he nodded at the necklace she was wearing. "You know, I wanted to ask you about that cross. Esme said—"

"Yes, I suppose it's a bit odd, me wearing it at all," Rosalie said, apparently eager to pretend that she hadn't just said something that could be taken the wrong way. (Not that he would. Rosalie might like him, but as a friend, nothing else.) "But Esme gave it to me, so I suppose it's acquired sentimental value over the years."

Emmett smiled. "That makes sense. It's pretty, anyway."

"Thanks," Rosalie said, smiling. "Are you an authority on ladies' jewelry now?"

Emmett laughed. "I just know that everything you wear looks good on you."

Rosalie laughed too, then looked away, her expression uncertain. It wasn't always easy to talk to Rosalie—there were moments like this when he had no idea what to say next, and when she seemed equally at a loss. But he was happy just to be near her, and he hoped that as he got to know her better, he'd learn more about her. It was easy to compliment her physical beauty, but Emmett was just as interested in things about Rosalie that weren't so obvious. He wondered if she'd ever tell him more about why she wore what had once been Esme's necklace: that little piece of gold seemed to be just one of many secrets that Rosalie kept close to her. Emmett wondered how long he would have to know her before that happened—if he could, he wanted to discover everything there was to know about his angel.


	273. Next

Hi everyone! Today's chapter finally concludes the series focusing on the golden cross, and here, Nessie contemplates the future of her family and this particular heirloom. I feel like a lot of people don't like Nessie because as a half-human, half-vampire, it's hard to know how she experiences things. So, in Nessie chapters, I always try to explore how she might perceive the world, and how she might try to understand who she is and how different her life is from that of even those closest to her. (This chapter also shows Carlisle getting to be a Grandpa, and I always like exploring that side of him. :)) Also, for those who have asked, yes, my other CarlisleXEsme story, "I'm Always in Love" is canon, and it gives my take on how Carlisle and Esme got to know each other and eventually got married. :) Thanks as always for all your great reviews, and I'll see you again next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I still need to see "Breaking Dawn" Part 2 in theaters one more time! Maybe later this week? (Not tomorrow night though—hee hee, I have a date. :))

_2007_: Next

Nessie's POV

"Those were all really interesting stories," Nessie said, smiling at the golden cross in her hand. "They make me wonder where it's going to be in the future. I mean, maybe it'll still be in our family a hundred years from now." Then she grinned. "Maybe I'll even wear it at my wedding."

Nessie struggled not to laugh when she felt her parents turn and give each other a faintly panicked look over the top of her head.

"Maybe you will," Momma said slowly. "_Someday _in the future."

"Right," Dad said quickly, "that's probably not something you need to start planning for a while though, honey."

Nessie laughed. "Don't worry. I'll probably be older than Momma was but younger than you were when I get married—if I ever get married."

"Regardless of when or if you want to get married, why don't you wear that necklace for a while?" Aunt Rose said. "We can all share it—you, your mom, grandma, Alice and I."

"That sounds like fun!" Aunt Alice said grinning at Momma and Dad. "You know, Nessie, Rosalie let me borrow that necklace when I married Jasper."

"Hey, how come we don't get a turn?" Uncle Emmett wondered.

"Because I think there's a good chance you'd break it, even if you were really careful," Aunt Rose said archly. "You do that, you know—break things. Particularly things that people wear."

"I'll let you share my turn with the necklace," Aunt Alice offered, looking at Uncle Jasper.

"Yeah, I'm not really a jewelry person," Uncle Jasper said with a smile. "Besides, I have a bad habit of breaking things too."

"Thank you," Dad said, rolling his eyes. "Thank you both, as always, for your innuendos."

"I'll have to draw you wearing that sometime," Grandma said. "The chain's a little long on you now, but you'll grow into it."

"I promise I'll be really careful with it," Nessie said, slipping the necklace over her head. "When will you need it next, Aunt Rose?"

"Well, the next time we start at a new school, I suppose," Aunt Rose said thoughtfully. "I like to wear on the first day, for good luck. And I'll want to wear it the next time Emmett and I get married."

"_And_, Esme will need to borrow it when she and Carlisle renew their vows on their one hundredth anniversary," Aunt Alice said eagerly. "I've still got lots to plan for that day, but that part is pretty much set in stone."

"You're picking out my jewelry now?" Grandma said, raising her eyebrows. "We've discussed this, Alice. You can do the decorations, but we're picking out our own clothes."

"Fine, but wear the necklace," Alice said firmly. "You were going to anyway, even if I didn't try to boss you around about it."

"That's probably true," Grandma said with a laugh. "Nessie, that means I won't need to borrow it for certain for about fourteen years, so take care of it for me until then."

"We'll all take turns," Momma said, smiling at the necklace. "Now that I know how this necklace is connected to our whole family, I think it has sentimental value for me too."

"The wolves will be here soon," Grandma noted. "Edward, Bella, want to come help me start dinner?"

"Sure," Momma said, kissing Nessie on top of her head before standing up.

"Stay out of trouble," Dad said, ruffling her hair as he followed the others to the kitchen.

"Let's go destroy something before our guests arrive," Uncle Emmett whispered to Aunt Rose. She grinned and kissed Nessie before they went upstairs.

"We'll be right back," Aunt Alice called from the front door. "Jasper and I are going to hunt real quick."

Nessie looked at Grandpa. "Can we go to your office? I want to look something up."

"Sure. We can take a look at some maps too," Grandpa suggested. "I can show you all the places the cross has been, as far as we know."

Nessie smiled. "Thanks, Grandpa."

Up in Grandpa's office, they looked through several atlases, some of them very old, and traced the most likely routes that the golden cross had taken over the centuries to get from Eastern Europe to the state of Washington. It was all very interesting, but as Nessie sat in Grandpa's lap, she had to admit that something was bothering her. Usually, when she sat in someone's lap, she could pretend that she was an ordinary child, and that she was safe and sound with someone she loved, but not tonight.

"You said before that you wanted to look something up," Grandpa said, his expression thoughtful. "You're very quiet though. Is something troubling you?"

Nessie examined the golden cross hanging from her neck. "The answer to my question probably isn't in any book. I've just been wondering what my future will be like. I mean, what my life will be like on the days we were talking about before: at Aunt Rose's next wedding, and yours and Grandma's hundredth anniversary, and maybe my own wedding…I just wonder…do I feel the same things that the rest of you do?"

Grandpa frowned. "How do you mean exactly?"

"I mean, you were all human once," Nessie whispered. "I've never been human, and I'll never be a vampire either. I'm something in-between. So I wonder sometimes…does life feel the same to us? I mean, I love all of you…but is the love that I feel the same as the love that all of you feel? Are our emotions even the same? I'm not wholly like you, or Grandpa Charlie, or Jacob, so what's normal for me? Sometimes…sometimes I worry that if anyone knew what I was really thinking, how strange my thoughts are and what it's like to have a brain that grows faster than my body…that no one would like me at all."

"Oh, honey," Grandpa said, giving her a hug. It was only then that Nessie realized she'd started crying. "I don't think that you experience things so differently from the rest of us. The truth is, we all feel the way you do sometimes. No matter how close I get to people, even your grandmother doesn't know what it's like to exist as me, to be inside my head. Even your father doesn't know what it feels like to be you, and even your Uncle Jasper can't know what you're thinking. No one knows exactly what it's like to be you except for you, but that's true for everyone. We all sort of go through life wondering how much we're really like other people, but I don't think any of us really know, ever."

"But you've been alive for hundreds of years," Nessie said. "Shouldn't you know by now?"

"I had hundreds of years to worry that I must not experience the world like anyone else, because if I weren't too strange to love, then why was I all alone?" Grandpa said gently. "But people do love me now, and they love you too. Some days, I still don't understand why our family loves me as much as they do—maybe I'm not really as strange as I used to think, or maybe we're all just being strange together."

Nessie smiled a little at that. "Okay. As long as I'm not the only one who feels this way, then maybe it isn't so bad."

"Nessie, you're more unique than most, but even you aren't one of a kind," Grandpa said with a smile. "You could write to Nahuel if you like, ask him if he thinks he experiences life differently than Huilen. I bet he worries about the same thing sometimes."

"I bet he does," Nessie said, already feeling better. Grandpa was right—Nahuel was like her, and he was old enough that he must have some idea by now if his emotions were the same as his aunt's. "Good idea, Grandpa."

"Feel a little better?" he asked.

Nessie nodded. "I guess it's normal for one-year-olds to cry. Still, I'm sor—"

Grandpa put a hand over her mouth. "Don't apologize, sweetheart. Everyone, even a one-year-old, has the occasional existential crisis. That's nothing to be sorry about."

"Okay," Nessie said, glancing down and wiping a stray tear from the cross around her neck. "But it's strange to think about—how everyone, not just in our family, but everyone who's ever worn this, has been all alone in their heads. Every person ever, even if they're like Dad or Uncle Jasper, can't know exactly what it's like to be a different person."

"Plato had a saying I like," Grandpa said. "It goes, "Be kind, for everyone is fighting a hard battle." That's always been true, and I think it always will be."

Nessie smiled. "I like that saying. Have you told it to me before?"

"It's possible," Grandpa said with a chuckle, pretending to look forgetful. "I'm an old man though, so I can't always remember things like that."

Nessie laughed, and then she and Grandpa sat quietly in his office for a while. Snow was still falling outside, and for the moment at least, the prospect of facing the future just as she was, neither completely mortal, or completely immortal, didn't seem so lonely. After all, no one knew what their future would be like—well, except for Aunt Alice, but even she couldn't see everything. 'Someday' was a mystery to everyone, and one of the hardest parts of life, but also one of the best, was waiting to see what would come next.


	274. Families

Hi everyone! Sorry for missing last week, but this week, I've got a really long chapter for you, and next week, I'll be back with two chapters! In today's chapter (which is a reader request), I show how Jacob might have introduced his father to Nessie, and how Carlisle and Esme might have helped in such a potentially awkward (and extremely strange) situation. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't wait to get "Breaking Dawn" Part 2 on DVD! (I was glad that I got to see it in a theater one last time though, even though my local discount theater can be a bit scary…:))

_2006_: Families

Jacob's POV

Okay, so after leaving home and seemingly forsaking my family in favor of hanging out with a bunch of bloodsuckers, I was a little nervous about heading home and introducing my Dad to Nessie. I mean, he knew why I'd left in the first place, and he knew why I'd stuck around the Cullens' place since Nessie had been born, but I was pretty sure that didn't make it any easier to have me gone. Things were better now that Sam knew that I'd imprinted—his pack no longer hated my guts, even if everyone was a little unnerved that we could apparently imprint on people who were half-vampire—but still, I imagined what it must have been like when Seth and Leah and I had first taken off, and I felt bad. Billy and Sue Clearwater had both been worried sick.

My Dad has had a hard time ever since my mom died, and in the past few months, I'd made his life that much crazier by turning into a giant wolf and then hanging out with vampires. So, I was eager to introduce Billy to the person who had suddenly become my reason for existing, if only in the hope that he might understand that I wasn't tormenting him on purpose—what had happened wasn't something I could control. He knew that I'd imprinted, but I knew that hearing about it secondhand was a lot different than actually seeing me with Nessie. At least, I was hoping it would be different and actually helpful instead of just really unnerving for him.

I'd gone home twice already, once to apologize to my dad and convince him that I was alive and hadn't been brainwashed or injured by leeches, and then another time to pick up some clothes and see my sister Rachel, who'd been sitting on the couch with Paul. We hadn't exchanged more than an awkward hello, but I took it as a good sign that he hadn't tried to throw anything at me. Today's visit was different though. Today, I'd be bringing Nessie with me to meet my Dad, and Carlisle and Esme would be coming with me.

Getting Blondie to allow me to take Nessie anywhere seemed like it would be all but impossible at first—just letting Nessie out of her sight was practically a deal-breaker for Rosalie, especially since Bella, for obvious reasons, wasn't welcome on the Rez until she was a little older. (By now, everyone had heard about her amazing self-control, but the pack was taking no chances.) Similarly, no one really wanted Edward on Quileute land because of his creepy mind-reading ability, and I doubted that Billy would agree to drop by the Cullens' place for a visit, so for a while, we were at an impasse. Then Carlisle volunteered to drive me to La Push, and Esme told Rosalie that she'd go too, and after a lot of glaring and scowling, Rosalie agreed. So did Edward and Bella, but then, Bella was glad to give me a chance to reassure my Dad, and Edward was fine with the idea as long as Nessie had babysitters who knew more about taking care of infants than I did along for the ride.

I guess I couldn't exactly blame Blondie for being less than thrilled with the whole situation: Bella knew me, and Edward could read my mind, so it made sense that, after the initial shock had worn off, they cut me a little more slack about the imprinting thing. Before Nessie was born, if I'd known what was going to happen, I would have been even more pissed than Rosalie was. Imprinting had seemed like the worst thing in the world then. Now that it had happened though, I didn't feel angry or uncertain anymore. It was like I'd been holding my breath ever since Edward had come back into Bella's life, and now I could breathe again.

I didn't feel trapped—I felt weirdly at ease, like things were finally okay, which, logically, wouldn't have made sense to me until I'd imprinted. It wasn't like I was in love with a baby—I just wanted nothing more than to protect her, to have her be happy and safe, and I didn't need anything else. In the future, who knew what would happen—who knew what Nessie's future would be like? What I wanted more than anything now was to always be there for her, and I felt like things were going to be like that from now on. When she grew up, whether she chose me or not, I knew that I was always going to be happy just being with her, which would have been a really strange thing to contemplate, before I'd imprinted. Now, it was just the way things were; the thing I used to fear had brought me more happiness than I'd ever thought possible.

Carlisle drove us over to La Push after lunch; Esme was happy to cook for me and Seth, and just as happy to save our parents the expense of feeding us. (Now that we were able to, Leah was insisting on going home to eat though.) Nessie and I rode in the back of the Mercedes, her in a baby seat and me with my legs folded up to fit into a car that wasn't really built to accommodate werewolves.

"Does your father have some idea of what to expect, Jacob?" Esme asked, smiling at Nessie and waving to her from the front seat; Nessie waved back.

I shrugged. "Um, kind of? I mean, I've told him that she's not like a normal kid, that she's super smart and growing really fast, but I think he just thinks I'm exaggerating because of the imprinting thing. Like, any kid I imprinted on would automatically be the most amazing, perfect kid in the world."

"Well, I'm grateful that your father agreed to allow us to come with you," Carlisle said with a smile. "It will put our family at ease, and yours too, I hope."

"Yeah," I said. "I mean, I think it should be fine. My sister and my Dad are okay with things, but if Paul's there, I might have to throw him out..."

"Jacob, no throwing people please, unless it's absolutely necessary," Esme said with the tired tone of a mom who's used to her kids throwing things.

I grinned. "I'll be on my best behavior, I promise." _As long as Paul keeps his damn mouth shut._

We pulled up to the house then, and by the time I'd gotten out of the car, Esme was lifting Nessie out of her car seat and Carlisle was greeting my Dad at the door.

"Thanks for having us," Carlisle said, and Billy, to his credit, didn't flinch when he shook hands with Dr. Fang. My Dad, I've often thought, would have made one hell of a wolf, though I guess I was glad that he didn't have to deal with all the stuff me and both packs had been through lately.

"Well, thank you for looking out for Jacob," Billy said, nodding at Carlisle and smiling a little at me. Having Carlisle with me for this was definitely a good idea—thanks to the fact that he'd saved my life, I think that Carlisle could have been a yeti and my dad wouldn't have minded. While they talked for a minute about how Bella was doing, Esme handed Nessie to me with a grin and went to stand by Carlisle.

"And this is my wife, Esme," Carlisle said, putting his arm around her as she and my dad shook hands.

"It's very nice to finally meet you, Billy," Esme said, and I saw Billy's eyes widen a little when he looked at her. Let's face it—Esme just looks way too _nice_ somehow to be a vampire. "You've certainly raised Jacob to be a fine young man."

"Ah—thank you," Billy stammered a little. "It's nice to meet you too, Esme. Come on in, it looks like it's about to start raining again."

I trailed after the three of them, preferring that we get inside before Billy got a good look at the baby in my arms. Nessie touched my face to show me a memory of a picture I'd shown her: it was me and Billy together, before he'd needed the wheelchair. I was younger, a lot shorted and skinnier. Nessie seemed curious about the change in both of us.

"I guess the easiest way to explain it is that we both got older," I said quietly. "Billy got sick, so he can't use his legs anymore. I turned into a wolf about a year after I met your mom, and that's why I suddenly grew to about twice my previous size."

Nessie touched my face again: she was having a hard time understanding a sickness that made your legs not work.

"Ask your grandpa to explain diabetes," I said with a wry smile. "He is a doctor, after all. I'd probably just make things more confusing."

Inside, my house was the same as ever: small, but sort of cozy, if you like a lot of furniture and other stuff crammed into a small space. I'd never really thought of my house as small until I'd become a wolf; now it could seem sort of cramped, but sometimes just being inside at all was hard. There were times when I just had to get out and run, get some fresh air and be surrounded by trees, not walls or the smells of people. The Cullens' house, with all its windows, felt less confining, but it was still no substitute for a good run in the woods.

Carlisle and Esme sat down on the sofa, Billy beside them in his chair—I'm pretty sure I saw him open his mouth to offer them something to drink, but then he stopped himself. With a sigh, I decided to stop lurking, so I sat down on the floor in front of the couch so Billy could see the baby. His eyes widened again when he saw her.

"So this is Renesmee," he said quietly.

"You can just call her Nessie when Bella's not around," I said cheerfully. "I think we all agree that the name's kind of a mouthful."

Hesitantly, Billy leaned down and waved at Nessie, who was staring at him. "Hello, Nessie. It's nice to meet you."

"Want to hold her?" I asked. "She doesn't really talk yet, but she can say hi in her own way. And she won't bite, we've discussed that."

My Dad raised his eyebrows at me. "You've discussed it?"

"She really only bit Jacob right after she was born," Esme explained. "We think she was maybe testing her boundaries, as much as an infant can do that."

"I see," Billy said, watching Nessie a little warily when I stood up and set her in his arms. She touched his face, and as he gasped, I wondered what she was showing him. Probably me, but I wondered what specific thoughts she'd think to show my Dad.

"Yeah, she can show you her memories. With her mind. Somehow," I said.

"I can see you, Jake," he said quietly. "I guess...she cares for you too."

"I know," I said with a smile. "I like to think that I've gone from chew toy to friend over the past couple of weeks."

"How is she able to do this?" Billy asked.

"We think that Nessie's gift is similar to her father's, only in reverse," Carlisle said. Billy looked a little less freaked out now, and when Nessie smiled at him, he smiled back. I grinned. It was sort of impossible not to love the kid, even if you'd spent your whole life being less than thrilled with the idea of vampires.

"Well," Billy said, looking amazed. "I guess...she really is as amazing as you said."

I rolled my eyes. "Told you I wasn't exaggerating."

"And you're...you're okay with this, Jacob?" Billy asked hesitantly.

"Fine," I said easily. "I mean, better than fine, which would have seriously freaked me out before this happened. I'm...happy, Dad. I know I never thought I would be if something like this happened, but everything really feels okay. I'm happy if I can just be around her, and make sure she's happy too. And now, in retrospect, I feel bad about being sort of creeped out by the whole Quil and Claire thing, since I know that this is almost weirder."

"And has your family accepted this?" Billy asked slowly, looking away from Nessie to glance at Carlisle and Esme.

"Billy, I know that this is an unusual situation, to say the least," Carlisle said, "but we understand that what's happened isn't something that Jacob could control. And given that Edward can read Jacob's thoughts, he knows that his intentions really are protective and nothing untoward. Nessie's parents accept what's happened, and so do we."

I smiled a little at the fact that Carlisle hadn't mentioned Nessie's aunt Rosalie's opinion of me.

"Really Billy, we're always happy to have Jacob in our home," Esme said with a smile. "We're all very fond of him, and he's been a great deal of help to us, and to Nessie."

Billy smiled down at Nessie. "Well, I'm glad. She really seems to like you too, Jake."

I grinned, realizing for the first time that Billy wasn't disgusted or scared by Nessie, and maybe he never had been in the first place. Actually, he really did seem to like her. Maybe he hadn't been worried so much about who I'd imprinted on—maybe the concern I'd heard in his voice the last few times we'd talked was because I'd imprinted at all. Maybe he was afraid it would change who I was; a lot of the guys who'd imprinted seemed a lot different than they had before it had happened. But now he could see that I was still me. He hadn't lost me—Nessie had just added an unexpected new dimension to my family's reality.

"We know that at some point, Jacob's going to need to go back to school," Carlisle said, and I tried not to roll my eyes; lately, school had hardly been my biggest concern. "Until he can get back into high school classes, we'll be happy to tutor him."

"Hey, um, don't go to any trouble though," I said quickly.

"Oh, it's no trouble. I've taught high school before, and I'll be more than happy to help you catch up in every subject, Jacob," Esme said with a smile.

"Past report cards suggest he'll especially need help with math," Billy said quietly, and Nessie giggled.

I scowled. "That was a low blow."

My Dad smiled at the Cullens. "Tutoring sounds like an excellent idea, thank you. Of course, I'll want to borrow Jacob now and then, but if it's no trouble, I don't mind him spending most of his time in your home, and I'll always be grateful to you for helping him."

"Helping me?" I repeated blankly. "Math, in my experience, is very rarely helpful."

"I meant giving you new clothes for one thing, but mostly for feeding you the past few weeks," my Dad said wryly. "I was starting to worry that you were literally going to eat me out of house and home, but it's starting to look like your sister and I won't starve to death this winter after all."

"Speaking of which, I think I'll raid your kitchen while I'm here, just for old time's sake," I said, laughing when I heard him sigh as I entered the kitchen. I found a bag of chips on top of the fridge, and within seconds of opening it, it was mostly empty. After locating a soda, I returned to the living room, where I grinned at the image of my Dad and Nessie sitting together, Nessie looking cheerful and Billy seeming a lot happier than I'd seen him in a long time. Sure, the Cullens were a part of my life now; I didn't know all of them very well yet, but when it came to Bella and Edward, Carlisle and Esme, and of course Nessie, they were family already. But I was still glad to see that having a new family didn't mean I had to say goodbye to my old one. I felt that if Billy could deal with this, then we could deal with anything, as a family, no matter what happened in the (sure to be interesting) future.


	275. Sewing

Hi everyone! Today's first chapter was inspired by a reader suggestion; it concerns what Esme might have done in her first few weeks as a vampire. I imagine that to keep the grief she felt for her son somewhat at bay, she would have tried to stay as busy as possible, which would have led to her doing chores around the house, which could have led to her discovering Carlisle's sewing skills. :) Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again later today with another chapter!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I keep forgetting that the first "New Moon" graphic novel is coming out in April! I'm really looking forward to it, but I don't understand why it says on Amazon that Volume 2 comes out the same day as Volume 1. (Yeah, I'm thinking Volume 2 won't be out until later this year, or maybe even next year…)

_1921_: Sewing

Esme's POV

After several weeks of sharing a house with Carlisle and Edward Cullen, Esme no longer felt hopelessly tongue-tied in the presence of either man, but since she hardly dared venture outside for fear of killing someone (a very real risk, according to her new housemates), Esme spent much of each day looking for things to do. Before she finished one task (such as laundry), she'd begin looking for her next occupation. By now, there were few books in the house that she hadn't read (other than Carlisle's medical books, and since the anatomical pictures made her throat burn with rather disturbing intensity, she avoided those); she was tired of playing chess or cards with Edward, since his talent made it impossible for any game that wasn't pure chance to really be fair; and though she liked drawing, there were only so many hours that she could spend laboring over a sketch of a tree without getting frustrated. (She tried not to think about how many drawing tools she'd destroyed in a fit of pique since her arrival in the Cullen household.)

Two months after her life as a vampire began, Esme found herself repainting the entire house, inside and out. It was a fun job which kept her cheerfully occupied for several days, and once the paint was dry, she looked forward to decorating the house so that it looked less like a moldering shack and more like a place where people actually lived...but then what? If she was really going to live forever, could she really spend eternity doing odd jobs?

"I hesitate to remind you of this yet again," Edward said one afternoon. "But you're not our servant, Esme. I know you like having things to do, but can't you just...I don't know, relax? Try drawing that tree again?"

"You should know the answer to that question better than anyone," Esme said grimly, untying the scarf she'd covered her head with to protect her hair from dripping paint. "If I try drawing that tree one more time, I might just rip it out of the ground! There's only so much that I can learn about creating art on my own. Until that new drawing book arrives, I need some other pursuits to keep me occupied. I spent too much of my life sitting quietly, thank you very much. Now that I'm dead, I want to do things...provided I don't hurt anyone in the process."

"I know it doesn't seem like it now, but your thirst really is getting better," Edward said encouragingly. Then he paused. "I can hear it, you know. How much you don't want to think about...I mean, how much you'd miss him if you didn't keep busy."

Esme nodded, lips pursed. She was glad that she didn't have to explain things about her son to Edward. She'd found that it was best if she kept herself occupied and tried not to mourn what she'd lost; if she'd let herself, she could have spent hours every day crying for her son, but she knew that wouldn't bring him back, and she hated to worry Carlisle and Edward that way. No, it was far better to try and be useful, to be cheerful if possible. And maybe with time, her grief would fade. Esme couldn't imagine such a time now, but maybe a day would come when it didn't feel as though sadness could consume her at any moment...

"So, can you think of anything for me to do next?" Esme asked briskly.

"Next week, we're going to try and take you into town," Edward said firmly. "Then you can start picking out your own books and clothes instead of having to put up with our different tastes in fiction and our very questionable taste in ladies garments."

"Sewing," Esme said suddenly. "You and Carlisle must have a few things that need mending. I'd be happy to do that, now that I'm becoming more confident in my ability to handle clothing without destroying it."

Edward smiled. "I think I can find some school clothes that need mending. I tend to wear holes in the elbows and knees of things a lot faster than I did when I was human. Carlisle says that as we get older, we tend not to damage so much clothing, but when we're young, if we move too quickly, or just wear a piece of clothing for too long, we damage things, even when we think we're being careful."

Esme sighed. "Well, that makes me feel better. I've had to mend this dress three times since Carlisle brought it home. No matter how carefully I move, I seem to tear things. And shoes are even worse—I keep splitting them in half. Stockings too; I've stopped wearing them altogether."

Edward opened his mouth to offer some sort of comforting phrase, but then Esme met his eyes, her expression irritated, and he closed it.

"I'll go get you those shirts then," Edward said smoothly, leaving his chair and heading upstairs.

Esme sighed again as he disappeared. "Thank you, Edward. I know you and Carlisle both mean well, but I can't have you two comforting me every moment of the day. I appreciate your kindness, but rather than always being treated gently, I think what I need to make me feel better is useful employment."

"Thus all the chores you've been doing," Edward said, returning with his shirts. "I suppose that makes sense. I've been trying to understand you, but it's difficult when you don't completely understand yourself."

Esme frowned. "I suppose I just don't know what I want yet. I was so sure that my life was over...and now I've got forever to do whatever I might like. Except I can't yet—not until we can be sure that I won't kill anyone. It's sort of like a dream and a nightmare all rolled in one."

Edward took Esme's hand and squeezed it gently as he handed her the shirts. "In that case, we'll do our best to keep you busy until the nightmarish part of this ends. I mean, look at Carlisle. He started out hating this life even more than I did, but he's happy now. The bad part doesn't last forever."

Esme didn't ask aloud if Edward was happy in this life yet, but judging by his wry smile and the way he didn't answer, it seemed he wasn't always sure how he felt about being a vampire, or how to describe whatever he felt.

Mending Edward's clothes didn't take long, but after investigating the laundry hamper, Esme found several things of Carlisle's and Edward's (mostly socks) that needed mending. Edward finished one book and started another, parts of which he read aloud to her, and overall, the sunny afternoon passed pleasantly, much as Esme still didn't like having to stay inside on beautiful days.

Esme was still darning socks when Carlisle came home, a newspaper in his hand. After their usual greetings, his expression grew serious.

"There's been a strange death on the other side of the county," he said, putting down the newspaper. "The authorities have decided that it must have been an accident, but it sounds like it could have been a vampire."

"We should probably move soon anyway," Edward said with a shrug. "Maybe someplace with fewer sunny days?"

Esme relaxed then—for a terrible instant, she'd thought that Carlisle suspected her of the murder, but given his worried expression when he sat down beside her, when he'd read the news of the strange death, he'd thought of something else entirely.

"Would that be bad, having another vampire so close?" she asked. "I mean, you've said that we're usually territorial. Would just one of them try to fight all three of us?"

"Probably not, but their presence risks exposing us," Carlisle said. "When I was on my own, whenever something like this happened, I'd pick up and leave right away. It's different in a big city, where people die every day. But in a rural area like this one, any death that occurs under unusual circumstances draws a lot more attention. Still, for now we can't be sure that it was even a vampire who did this. It worries me, but I don't think we need to start packing yet."

"But what if it is, and there turns out to be more than one of them?" Edward asked.

"Then we find ourselves a new territory, but we don't hurry; that could draw more attention. Now that there are three of us, I don't see any reason to leave the way I sometimes used to, like a thief in the night. There's a lot of safety in numbers, and with a family this size, we can take the time to pack things up, choose a new house, and move the way humans do. It's been a long time since I felt the need to run off with only a few possessions in tow, and now that you two are with me, I think those days may be over. We'll just keep an eye on the situation."

Edward nodded. "I get the feeling that more than anything, you're worried out of force of habit."

Carlisle smiled. "I'm used to being on my own, and worrying about everything that goes along with that. But being in a coven of three is a whole different story. Now I need to learn the difference between sensible caution and needless worry."

Esme thought about what Carlisle had just said; though his use of the word 'family' had made her happy, what Carlisle had said about coven size made her curious. "We aren't experienced fighters or anything. Why is a coven of three seen as formidable?"

"Our kind generally travels in pairs or on their own," Carlisle said. "Three is unusual, and any more than that is rare. There are probably only a couple dozen covens in the world with three or more members, and most of them keep to themselves, in long-established territories."

"And on that note regarding vampire anthropology, I'm going to go study human anthropology," Edward said, wishing them both a good night as he headed up to his room. Esme smiled; at the rate he was going, Edward would soon be finished with every book in the public library as well as every book in the house.

"So, how was your day?" Carlisle asked.

Esme smiled. "Eventful, in the sense that I found lots of little things to keep me busy, though I have to emphasize the word 'little.' I notice that I'm not the first person to darn these socks. Frankly, I'm a little embarrassed—you sew better than I do."

Carlisle laughed. "Well, I've had a lot of practice. As in, a couple more centuries than you've had, so I wouldn't say that I'm good at sewing exactly—just very persistent."

"Well, if you don't mind, I can take over the sewing duties in this house from now on," Esme said, "Until I can safely go into town, I'm going to be getting a lot of sewing practice myself."

"Soon, I think you'll be ready," Carlisle said confidently. "Every person is different, of course, but you're already less dangerous than you were a month ago. Though you may not feel it yet, every day that passes, you're getting a bit better at managing your thirst."

Esme frowned. "Edward suggested that we try going into town next week. You don't think that's too soon?"

"That sounds fine to me," Carlisle said. "We'll both be with you, and we'll make sure nothing goes wrong, Esme."

Esme nodded, still slightly skeptical. "All right. But just to be safe, I don't plan on breathing much."

Carlisle chuckled. "Fair enough. But it will get better, Esme. I promise, your life won't be like this forever."

"…it must have been hard for you," Esme said sadly. "Having to do this on your own, when you were changed."

Carlisle shrugged. "I mostly lived in the woods my first few months. It was easier to avoid civilization back then. I was rather lonely, living that way, but more than that, I was bored. I had nothing to read, nothing to do except hunt and try to keep my clothing intact—I hated stealing things, even when my clothes were practically rags. Luckily, the first friend I made in this life gave me a needle and a spool thread not long after we met, plus some books to read. When I finished the books, I set to work learning to mend my own clothes. Thus my humble sewing skills."

Esme tried to imagine Carlisle, living off the blood of animals centuries ago and having to learn simple sewing techniques at the same time. She wondered sometimes what she would have done in his place: would she have given in to her thirst, or would she have found a way to endure it as he had? Esme hoped she never had to find out how powerful her new hunger was, and if it could really lead her to kill.

"I'm so glad I don't have to do this alone," Esme said quietly, then she smiled at him. "And I'm glad that I have more to occupy me during these first few months than sewing and books. I like both, but by themselves, I might grow weary of their charms."

"I certainly did," Carlisle said with a sigh. "There were far fewer books to choose from back then, after all…"

They spent the rest of the night talking about books, places that Esme wished to travel to and places that Carlisle had been, and though they'd discussed such things before, every conversation with Carlisle on whatever topic always seemed new and interesting to Esme. She found that she never tired of hearing his voice, and she delighted in making him smile and even laugh when she told him what she considered mundane details of her human life. But as they talked, in the back of her mind, Esme couldn't shake the image of Carlisle, over two hundred years ago, dressed in ragged clothing and living alone in the wilderness so he wouldn't hurt anyone.

_I'm lucky_, Esme thought, smiling at him. _I know that Carlisle and I can only ever be friends, but still, I'm so glad to know him now. I'm so grateful that I could begin this strange new life with he and Edward beside me, instead of being alone like he was, with no company but some old books and sewing to do..._


	276. Restraint

Hi again! Today's second chapter is shorter than the first, but it's also a reader request. Here, Carlisle and Esme discuss how hard it must be for Edward to resist the pull of Bella's blood; this chapter takes place on the day of Edward and Bella's date in the meadow during "Twilight," and I can just imagine Carlisle and Esme sitting at home, nervously hoping that everything's going well, and not being able to do anything but wait and wonder. (Also, in my other story, "I'm Always In Love," there's a chapter that describes the birthday that Esme refers to below.)

Thanks once again for all your wonderful reviews: I'll be on vacation next week, so no new chapter, but I'll hopefully be back in two weeks with two more. There aren't too many chapters left in "Eternity," so if anyone has a request, this is your last chance to let me know. Have a great week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I've decided: I'm finally going to send her a fan letter. I know it's a bit weird that after years of loving her books and writing fanfic about her characters, I'm just now doing this, but here we are. Allons-y! :)

_2005_: Restraint

Carlisle's POV

It was a sunny day, which was part of the reason that Carlisle had taken the day off from work, but mostly, he was glad to be home that day just in case anything went wrong during Edward's date with Bella. Of course, if the worst happened, there would be little he and Esme could do but try and comfort Edward, though he suspected that that would be extremely difficult; Edward barely knew the girl, but given his reaction to her, it was clear that if he hurt her today, he would be heartbroken. Of course, Carlisle knew he could hardly go along and supervise. All he could do was sit at home and wait, like any nervous parent waiting to hear the result of a first date. At least he and Esme could wait together.

"Okay," Esme said after a few minutes of sitting on the couch and attempting to watch a movie. "I think we need something else to do—something that will be more distracting."

"How about a game?" Carlisle asked. "Chess, mahjong, Scrabble?"

"Scrabble sounds good," Esme said with a smile. "I could use some practice—it sounds like Bella is a big fan of reading, so she may turn out to be a formidable Scrabble opponent." Then she frowned. "I shouldn't be planning ahead like that though. It isn't as if he's going to just invite her over—"

"He might though, if things go well today," Carlisle pointed out.

"—but even if he does, and I say this as someone who really isn't superstitious, I don't want to jinx this date with Bella."

Carlisle chuckled as he held the bag of Scrabble tiles while Esme drew seven without looking. "I doubt that just talking about their possible future dates could bring them any bad luck."

Esme sighed. "There's already a lot of bad luck inherent to their situation though. I just don't want to add to it by letting Edward know how much I want to meet her—he shouldn't feel pressured to introduce her. And I'm not sure meeting your boyfriend's parents qualifies as a proper date, though I suppose that depends on the person."

"But you _do_ want him to bring her over sometime, and if they're dating, doesn't anything they do together count as a date?" Carlisle asked innocently, smiling as Esme shook her head, holding out the bag of tiles for him.

"I will be ecstatic if and when I get to meet Bella, but only if it's safe," Esme said. "And only if she wouldn't be uncomfortable. Going on a date with someone you don't know very well is terrifying enough without knowing that your boyfriend's mother is waiting with bated breath to meet you, even if your boyfriend's mother isn't a vampire."

"I daresay the vampire issue isn't too big a hurdle for her, since she did agree to go out with Edward," Carlisle said. "Then again, she's purportedly very intelligent. At some point, her fondness for Edward could be overruled by her sense of self-preservation."

"But if she really likes him," Esme argued, "she might just decide to ignore the danger. People do crazy things when they're in love. Remember when I lit all of those candles up on the roof on our birthday?"

Carlisle laughed. "It was beautiful, and you didn't even burn the house down." He frowned at the board as Esme put down four tiles to spell out GEMS for 14 points. "Edward hasn't said much about it, but it has to be very hard for him, just being close to her."

"I can't imagine even trying to kiss you, let alone attempting anything more intimate, if you were human," Esme said quietly. "I've never understood how Tanya and her sisters manage the way they do with human men."

"Practice," Carlisle said. "And Edward has had a lot of years to practice being gentle with delicate things. Given his attraction to her blood, he's already shown a lot of restraint around Bella—hopefully, it will get easier for him to resist her scent, as time goes on."

Carlisle played AXIS for 22 points, and then they were silent for a moment.

"I keep thinking about when we first met, and how it must be like that for Bella all the time," Esme said with a small smile, setting down tiles for LEGION, worth 16 points. "Except for her, it must be even more embarrassing, because she _knows_ that he can hear her heart beating too fast."

"And he'll be worried about staring too much, and not blinking enough, and being too cold, and just not looking human enough," Carlisle said knowingly, playing LOSING (which often happened when he played Scrabble against Esme) for 8 points. "And I'm guessing that he's worried about saying too much, or moving too fast, and telling her that he loves her already."

"But maybe she loves him too," Esme said with a fond smile. (FUMES, 20 points.) "And if they love each other, then maybe they'll find a way to make it work. Love has had to overcome bigger obstacles in its time."

Carlisle took a deep breath and then let it out slowly—Esme's scent, while exciting to him, also had a way of calming him down when he was uneasy. "You're right. Things seem a bit frightening now, and fraught with insurmountable difficulties, and I hate having to wait and see how things progress, but..." Carlisle paused, played CUFF for 24 points, then took Esme's hand. "Things worked out for us, impossible as that would have seemed when we first met."

"Exactly," Esme said fondly, squeezing his hand. Then she played MOVIE for 18 points and shook her head, her smile fading a little.

"Still, it _is_ hard to watch them and know that we can only help so much. If Bella chooses to stay with Edward—someday, in the still-hypothetical future—she's going to have a lot of difficult decisions to make."

"We'll just have to wait and see what happens," Carlisle said quietly, and Esme sighed. It was going to be a long day, regardless of what they did to distract themselves. Suddenly, Esme smiled wryly as Carlisle set down tiles for HOMER, 12 points.

"You know, we could play strip Scrabble."

Carlisle laughed. "How would that even work?"

"Every turn, whoever puts down the word worth the most points wins, and the other person has to strip." As she spoke, Esme put down tiles for NAPS, worth 6 points.

Carlisle smiled as Esme's foot brushed his leg under the table. "I love it. And if we're starting now, HOMER is worth more points than NAPS."

"So it is," Esme said, smiling demurely as she removed a sock. Carlisle grinned. It was going to be hard to resist the urge to push the board off the table, grab her, and kiss her before too many more turns had passed (assuming she didn't do the same to him before he had the chance) but for now, he could wait. If there was one thing Carlisle excelled at, it was self-restraint.


	277. Music

Hi everyone! Sorry for taking two weeks off, but now I'm finally back from vacation with a chapter that takes place a few months before the beginning of "Twilight"; I like the idea of Edward just hanging out with Carlisle and Esme, since he probably did a lot of that before he met Bella, and I especially like the idea of Edward hanging out with his parents in Forks and thinking how things have always been a certain way, not knowing how dramatically his life is about to change. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! (Also, I'm going to start writing some reader-requested chapters soon, so if you haven't seen your request answered yet, don't worry—there's still a good chance I'll get to your idea before Chapter 300. :))

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm really excited to finally see "The Host" movie! :)

_2004_: Music

Edward's POV

For the first time since we'd moved into our new house, I was alone with my parents. Forks didn't have much to offer in the way of night life, so Alice and Jasper had gone to Vancouver for the weekend, while Rosalie and Emmett were in Seattle. Spending an evening with just Carlisle and Esme invariably reminded me of my early years as a vampire; for a long time, our family had consisted of just the three of us, a fact which made me think that even if Rosalie had been more enthused about our strange way of life, her entrance into our lives would have taken more than a little getting used to.

As it was, though I loved all my siblings now, after living with them for decades, I'd come to the conclusion that I was always going to enjoy time by myself a bit more than they did. I wasn't like the rest of my family; I was alone, and most of the time, I preferred that. Sharing a house with six other people could be a challenge, but at moments like this, when the house was quiet and almost empty, I was glad that I had people in my life who could interrupt my solitude.

As I sat at my piano, idling playing whatever song came to mind, Carlisle and Esme came downstairs. Both their clothes and hair were a bit mussed, but they were doing a good job of keeping their thoughts under control, so I made no comment about their appearance except to roll my eyes slightly. In the eighty years I'd lived with my parents, this was one thing that hadn't changed.

"I love this song," Esme said, smiling as she and Carlisle, hand and hand, came to sit on the sofa beside me. "Though it sounds a bit better when you play it, Edward. When I hear it on the radio, there are all of these weird sound effects thrown in. I don't know why musicians now feel the need to do that."

"Maybe so their music will stand out?" Carlisle wondered. "People have been writing beautiful songs for eons now. Maybe musicians feel they have to be unique to be successful, even if that means adding something unnecessary to a song that's good enough on its own."

"That's why I didn't enjoy the sixties as much as you two did," I said with a wry smile. "Sure, there were some good songs, but that decade saw the proliferation of the interminable guitar solo _and_ the unnecessary flourishes you just mentioned, Esme."

My mother laughed. "I remember when we first got "Sgt. Pepper," and for every song you liked, there were two more than just irritated you."

"Phil Spector should be tried for crimes against music," I muttered. "You've heard "Let It Be: Naked," coming from my room often enough lately; the Beatles would have been better off if they'd been able to keep things simple. They didn't need an orchestra behind them to sound great. Their own sound was enough, but then other people had to tinker with it..."

"I think that's the best thing about going to see music live. Then you get to hear how people really sound," Esme said, smiling at Carlisle. "Remember when we were first married, and we saw that amazing band in that café in Paris? They probably never became famous as musicians, but they sounded so beautiful."

"Of course, in a case like that, how music really sounds may not be as important as where you were or who you were with when you heard it," Carlisle said, squeezing her hand. "That band could have been horribly out of tune for all I know—but I was with you, and we were newly married, and everything seemed perfect because of how happy I was."

"You would have known if they'd been out of tune," I argued. "Though I suppose you probably wouldn't have cared, under the circumstances."

"True," Carlisle said with a smile. "Besides, back then, I preferred music we could dance to as opposed to more quiet songs. When you just want to dance with someone, the quality of the music being played is really secondary."

"Big Band music was always fun in that sense," Esme said fondly. "You could dance to it, but remember going to see people like Duke Ellington and Bing Crosby? Their bands always sounded amazing. They made you want to dance, then take their records home and listen to them over and over."

"We wore out quite a few records that way, dancing all night," Carlisle said with a grin. "Though of course we haven't agreed on every trend in music over the years. You certainly liked Elvis a great deal more than I did."

Esme grinned. "I thought you looked very handsome that time you had your hair done like his."

I laughed. "The haircuts are one thing I don't miss about the fifties, though the music was great—even Elvis."

"I've always admired both of you, for liking whatever music you enjoy and ignoring Emmett's jokes about whichever popular artist of the moment amuses him," Carlisle said, smiling as I started playing "Who Are You New York?"

Esme laughed. "It isn't as though you let him sway your opinion either. With some people though, even if you love their music, it's hard not to be amused by some of their fashion choices. The Beatles and the Stones wore some ridiculous outfits in the sixties, but I never liked them any less for it."

"Elton John," I said. "David Bowie too. Actually, pretty much every artist in the seventies and eighties. I'm just grateful that Alice's tastes in fashion have never been quite that esoteric."

"When it comes to buying clothes for the rest of us, she does try to reign herself in," Esme said with a smile. "But for herself...well, she has been known to imitate the fashion choices of her favorite musicians."

"I'll never forget the time I got a call from her school when she came in one day dressed like Madonna," Carlisle said, shaking his head, and Esme and I laughed.

"If she'd been in high school at the time, she might have gotten away with that, but since she was pretending to be in eighth grade, I'm not surprised it didn't work out," I said, switching to "Your Song"

Carlisle and Esme sat beside me and listened as I played. Music, like everything else, had changed dramatically since we'd first met, but all these years later, here we were, enjoying a song together.

Even if I would never be like my parents, or my siblings—even if I never found a mate, and would instead spend every night of my endless life on my own, a single entity instead of half of a pair—I was glad that I had music from every decade that I'd lived (and quite a few from before my time) to keep me company, as well as who knew how many decades of new music to look forward to.


	278. Kayaks

Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update, but I had to work this weekend. Today's chapter deals with Bella's part time job; as I get closer and closer to the end of "Eternity," I've started trying to think of things I haven't done before, and one thing I don't think I've explored before is Bella at work. Though we never hear much about Bella's job, I like to think that it was one thing that helped convince Charlie that Bella had a mostly normal life in Forks. (I feel like if she'd been spending every waking moment with Edward, then Charlie might have realized that there was something supernatural going on a lot sooner.) Thanks for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I really can't wait for the "New Moon" graphic novel! :)

_2005_: Kayaks

Bella's POV

It was a typical rainy Saturday in Forks. The cast had finally come off my broken leg, and much to Charlie's relief, today I was engaged in a normal, typically non-dangerous teenage activity: I was at my summer job. Working at Newton's Olympic Outfitters wasn't exactly thrilling, but it was interesting compared to some of the part-time jobs I'd had back in Phoenix. (My mother always seemed to have friends who needed help in their stores either around the holidays or when someone quit unexpectedly, and though it was nice to make extra money, you have never known true boredom until you've spent a week working in a .)

Ever since my "accident" a few weeks ago, I'd been doing my best not to worry my dad. I knew that I'd put him through a lot, and in an effort to make his life a little easier this summer, Edward and I were mostly meeting at his house. Though Charlie still gave Edward's silver Volvo dirty looks every time he saw it, he didn't complain about Edward when I was in earshot at least; I think he was hoping that if he just ignored Edward enough, he'd eventually disappear altogether. I didn't ask for details on what my father thought of Edward, but judging by Edward's wry smiles whenever he picked me up, it was uncomplimentary.

As part of my effort to not worry Charlie and be the well-behaved teenager he knew (and not the type of seventeen year old who ran away to Phoenix because of a boy, which was somehow all Edward's fault and not mine), rather than spending every day at the Cullens' place, I was working at Newton's most weekdays. Mike had seemed delighted when I was hired, and even though I was dating Edward and Mike was dating Jessica, Edward had grumbled on more than one occasion about Mike harboring an admittedly forlorn hope that we might someday become a couple. I didn't really mind though—it wasn't like I had to hear what he was thinking, and I'd had worse coworkers than Mike.

Mike's mom had explained the layout of the store and trained me on the cash register one afternoon not long after school let out, and soon, my hours were filled with showing tourists where to find hiking and fishing gear and ringing up all manner of items (many of which I'd never seen or heard of before) for hunters, campers, and the occasional vampire. Edward's brothers came in one day not long after I started working at Newton's, Emmett smirking at me as he asked where the life jackets were. I'd dutifully shown him the way, knowing full well that Mike would start dating Edward before Emmett would ever actually _wear_ a life jacket.

"We're going whitewater rafting this weekend," he'd explained while Mrs. Newton, unnerved by our two large and rather threatening-looking customers, had had me ring them up while she directed Mike to move some boxes in the stockroom. "Care to join us?"

"I'll pass," I said, stomach churning a little at the very thought. "I'm clumsy enough on dry land—being clumsy around fast moving water just sounds like a bad idea."

Emmett had laughed. "Don't worry, Edward wouldn't let us let you drown."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks. Thanks for that, Emmett."

"Neither would Carlisle or Esme for that matter," Jasper said quietly, smiling at me. "Or Alice, so don't worry."

"Hell, we wouldn't let you drown for real," Emmett said. "I mean, we'd give you CPR if we had to. I just think it'd be pretty funny to watch you trip your way down a waterfall."

I almost said that if Edward would just change me into a vampire, I'd be happy to try jumping off waterfalls just to see what it felt like, but instead I just said, "I'll keep that in mind, for future reference."

Today had so far been a rather dull day at work; Mike and I were on separate sides of the store, stocking shelves, and Mrs. Newton was on the phone complaining to someone that she'd gotten half a dozen pairs of pink hiking boots instead of the forest green ones she'd ordered. At noon, Mike took his lunch, and then it was my turn a half hour later. It was only when I got to the desk in the back where my bag was sitting that I realized I'd forgotten my lunch. It had just been a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an apple that I'd stuffed into a plastic bag, and I felt sure that I'd put it in my book bag the night before, but then I realized that while folding laundry the previous evening, I'd probably left my lunch sitting on top of the dryer; so much for multi-tasking when you're extremely eager to get upstairs and see your boyfriend.

Sighing, I searched my bag for the book I was reading, hoping I'd at least remembered to bring that with me. If I couldn't eat, at least I could read, though I was hoping some forlorn, half-crushed granola bar might be in there somewhere too. But then I heard the bell over the door ring, announcing customers, and a few seconds later, Mike rushed into the room, looking sort of nervous and excited, but like he was trying to act normal.

"Bella, Edward's parents are here. They say you forgot your lunch?"

"Oh, yeah," I said, trying to pretend that the Cullens knowing this was not news to me. "Thanks."

"Hello, Bella," Carlisle said. He and Esme were standing by the register, both of them in hiking clothes.

"Hi," I said, blushing a little when Esme handed me my lunch bag. I wondered if I was supposed to act like I'd called them, or if Charlie had called and asked them to bring me my lunch, or what I was supposed to say aside from the truth: doubtless, Alice had seen my moment of dismay when I realized my forgotten lunch and had been kind enough to assist me, or at least to send someone else to assist. "Thanks…for bringing this."

"It was no trouble, since we needed to come in anyway to get a few things," Esme said warmly. "Your father was home having his lunch, and he was nice enough to help us find yours."

"It's supposed to be sunny this weekend, so we're planning a kayaking trip," Carlisle explained. "Care to show us where the kayaks are?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, leading them to the water sports section. As we passed, I noticed Mike putting price tags on things and trying to look like he wasn't sneaking glances at Esme. (Later, I would have to tell him that computerized fish finders probably don't cost 99 cents.) I led Carlisle and Esme to our selection of kayaks and raised my eyebrows. "Kayaking?" I said quietly.

"Emmett and Jasper like to race them," Esme murmured, and I wondered how many kayaks the two had destroyed in the past—I imagined that vampires, who were hard on clothes, cars, and everything else, must go through a lot of small plastic boats.

"The others are still at lunch," Carlisle said, glancing back at Mike, which I understood to mean Edward's siblings had dragged him off to go hunting. He didn't like leaving me in Forks alone since our unexpected trip to Phoenix, but every couple of weeks, some member of his family (and often me too) would put their foot down and make him go. "So, I guess we get to pick the colors this time."

"For Emmett and Jasper, I'd say hot pink kayaks, definitely," I said, imagining Emmett's amusement at that.

They both grinned and Esme laughed as she touched the side of a pink kayak. "That's certainly quite a mental picture."

"Of course, at the beginning of the twentieth century, blue was considered a color for girls, and shades of red and pink were believed to be more masculine," Carlisle said with a smile. "So who knows how they'll react."

I smiled at the thought that Emmett and Jasper had actually grown up at a time when pink was for boys, so my suggested joke probably wouldn't even work. "Where are you guys going?"

"Up to Canada," Esme said. "There are a few different national parks we've been meaning to visit."

"I took a few days off so we could all enjoy a break in the rain together, but it looks like we're not going see any sun until tomorrow now," Carlisle said.

"Care to join us?" Esme asked. "We'll be back early next week. Edward asked us if you could come."

"I have to work," I said with a shrug, knowing that they weren't really inviting me on a trip—most likely, the Cullens would spend the following day inside, or so deep in the woods that no humans would ever see them. I'd find Edward tonight in my room like always, and then after I got off work tomorrow, I'd tell Charlie I was going hiking and meet Edward in our meadow. Still, it was nice to be invited. "Thanks though. And thanks again for bringing me my lunch."

"You're welcome, Bella," Esme said fondly. "I'm glad you thought to call us—Forks doesn't have much in the way of fast food."

"Esme has to bring me my lunch every so often too," Carlisle said with a rueful shrug at his supposed forgetfulness, and I wondered what Carlisle's pretend lunches contained: books, maybe, or trash that resembled an eaten lunch? I got a little queasy when I pictured a thermos full of elk blood being passed off as tomato soup, and quickly decided that the Cullens wouldn't take risks like that, not even Carlisle, who could control himself around blood just fine.

I ate my lunch quickly, and when I'd finished, I found Carlisle and Esme still discussing the merits of different kayaks. They eventually bought two, one pink and one blue, which made me grin, and then Mike and I helped them carry the kayaks out to Emmett's Jeep. Then they waved and drove off, and as I went back inside, I was glad that in Forks, even my seemingly ordinary summer job was never too far from the supernatural world I was coming to know and love.


	279. Technology

Hi everyone! This week's chapter was a lot of fun to write. I love to imagine the Cullens' reactions to different technological advances, and I feel like video games especially are something that the Cullens have always kept up with. (I was a kid when the games mentioned below came out, but even as an adult, the graphics and whole premise of Pokemon Snap really impress me, and I feel like it's the sort of game that Esme could really get into, since it isn't about shooting anyone or fighting at all: it's just about taking pictures. :))

Also, the thing I mention below about the pet store selling Pokemon cards was a real thing when I was a child. It was weird, but there it is: for a long time, in my small town, the only place you could get Pokemon cards was at Pet Palace, our pet store/hobby shop, and I feel like the Cullens might have encountered the same thing in some of the small towns where they lived during the nineties. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and has anyone else seen "The Host" yet? I really liked it! (Now I'm just hoping that she's really working on a sequel…)

_1998_: Technology

Esme's POV

It was a brilliantly sunny evening, though the occasional cloud bank blotted out the sun, and as she had on several sunny days recently, Esme was sitting in the room she shared with Carlisle and playing Pokemon Snap on the N64. Originally, the machine had been Emmett's, but he and Jasper had both moved on to playing Duke Nukem on the computer, so Rosalie had given it to Esme, who enjoyed playing it while Carlisle was at work and the kids were at school. That day, Carlisle had gone to work before sunrise, but everyone else was at home, staying out of the sun and mostly keeping to themselves. As she played through the mountain level again (it was tricky, getting certain Pokemon to appear), Esme could hear Edward downstairs at his piano; otherwise, the house was quiet. Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie were all in their rooms with their respective spouses, and Esme was grateful, as she often was, that her skills at soundproofing houses had improved so much over the years.

Esme knew that Carlisle would be home soon, so she briefly switched to playing the GameBoy Alice had given her; her fondness for video games in general (but Pokemon games specifically) had not gone unnoticed by her children, and when they'd finished with their own games and gaming consoles, lately they'd been giving them to her. Currently, Esme was working to reestablish her business as an artist. She'd run a successful business, selling paintings and sculptures for nearly twenty-five years under a pseudonym, but Alice had foreseen that the enigmatic nature of Esme's artist identity was starting to attract attention, so to avoid having people come looking for her, Esme had "killed off" her pseudonym so to speak. (It was easy to publish an obituary for someone who didn't exist, since there wasn't any family to dispute the claim that the fictional person was really dead.)

Now, Esme was trying out some new styles of painting and spending most of her time on her antiques business, but when she had a little free time, she enjoyed the Pokemon games she'd been given. They were a great deal less violent than many video games she'd played, and though the acquisitive nature of the game's premise seemed rather mercenary (inventing so many Pokemon to catch was clearly a concept designed to sell as much Pokemon merchandise as possible), Esme liked the structure of the game, the strategy it required, and she enjoyed the idea of so many strange little creatures working together as a team.

"You know, I'd be happy to start collecting the trading cards if you want to learn the Pokemon card game," Carlisle said from the doorway—clearly, he'd heard the familiar music of Pokemon Snap as he'd moved up the stairs. "I work with a woman who's learning so she can play with her son and daughter; apparently, they sell the cards at the pet store now."

Esme paused the game and raised her eyebrows. "Why exactly does the pet store sell Pokemon cards?"

"Apparently, it's a hobby shop as well as a pet store," Carlisle said, sitting down on the bed beside her and kissing her briefly. "You can keep playing, if you'd like. It's fun to watch you concentrate on something like this."

Esme smiled as she un-paused the game. "If I'd known beforehand how much time I was going to devote to capturing and training monsters in a video game, I'm not sure I ever would have picked up one of these machines."

Carlisle laughed. "It's amazing how much the graphics of these games have improved in just a few years. This game looks a lot better than anything Emmett used to bring home for his old Atari."

"The graphics are better, and the games are more complex too," Esme agreed. "This one is actually pretty simple though. I've already beaten the game, but I reset it this morning so I could play again. Isn't that silly?"

Carlisle grinned. "Not if it's something you enjoy."

Esme rolled her eyes. "You say that, but I know you think it's a little bit silly, and so do I. After all, this is a game designed for children. Still, there's something so sweet and engaging about it. Watch this."

Esme finished the mountain level, then selected the river level. "See, if I play the flute here, the Vileplume does a different dance for each song you play. Snorlax on the beach level does the same thing."

Carlisle laughed. "I have to admit, that is rather fascinating. It's amazing how much detail they put into these games now. When you're finished playing, I might have to give it a try."

"I think you'll like it," Esme said, smiling fondly as Pikachu finally appeared. "It's really fun, discovering all the little clues and different situations you can trigger by doing certain things. When I see art this good, I have half a mind to take a computer aided design class the next time I'm in college."

"When I compare this to Pong, it's clear that video games really have become an art form," Carlisle said with a chuckle, putting his arm around her, and Esme smiled, leaning against him as she played. "I'd love to play a video game that you designed one day."

"Seeing how much technology like this has improved so much in so few years, I have to wonder how long video games are going to be used for entertainment purposes only," Esme said. "I mean, why not design a game that could be used to simulate surgery? Of course, medical students would still have to use real cadavers too, but practicing on a digital body certainly couldn't hurt. And aren't there already games designed to help prepare armed service members for jobs in the military and the air force?"

"I have heard of simulations like that," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "But maybe you can still be the person who designs a surgery simulation game."

Esme made a face. "I think I'm a bit too squeamish for that," she said, and it was true, in spite of her being someone who regularly tore animals apart with her teeth and drank their blood.

Carlisle chuckled, but then he considered the TV screen for a few moments. "It's certainly intriguing to imagine the biology of these creatures. Vampire biology is certainly strange, but imagine what the inside of a creature that breathes fire would look like."

Esme laughed. "I wonder about ice and water Pokemon too; how can they just produce huge quantities of water in various forms? And how can electric Pokemon control lightening without being electrocuted themselves?"

"It's a confusing mythology, but an entertaining one," Carlisle said. "It would be nice if humans could live with the animals on our planet half as peacefully as the people in these games seem to live with Pokemon."

"True," Esme said. "I suppose these games are rather utopian in that sense; in the real world, humans can barely get along with other humans. But in this world, humans of all races seem to cooperate just fine with hundreds of different species."

"I thought there were only one hundred and fifty of these things," Carlisle said.

Esme grinned. "There's another game coming out," she said, and Carlisle chuckled.

"Of course there is. I guess I have some catching up to do."

"You could stay home and play video games while I work tomorrow," Esme suggested. "I have to drive to Empire to look at a cabinet one of my contacts picked up at an estate sale. Remember the movie "For a Few Dollars More"? Apparently, this cabinet looks a lot like the one in that movie, so it could be a nice addition to someone's collection, after I clean it up a bit."

Carlisle smiled and kissed her on the cheek, and Esme decided that she'd had enough of video games for one day. "I suppose I could use a day off," he said. "Of course, can we do more than just play video games together?"

Esme smiled as she saved her game, then turned off the TV before pushing Carlisle down onto their bed. "Of course we can."

* * *

And now, just because I had fun thinking about this:

_The Cullens' Favorite Pokemon (from the original Red/Blue/Yellow GameBoy games)_

Carlisle: Chancey (because let's face it: if anyone can make Chancey look cool, it's Carlisle. Plus, they're associated with healing. :))

Esme: Eevee (because they're a normal Pokemon with the ability to transform, plus their general cuteness.)

Edward: Mewtwo (because of Mewtwo's incredible psychic power, plus he's one-of-a-kind.)

Rosalie: Ninetails (pretty, but dangerous.)

Emmett: Machamp (super strong—Emmett could arm wrestle his Machamp. :))

Jasper: Charizard (because of their toughness and how cool they look; plus, there was a time in his life when Jasper probably would have loved to have a fire breathing dragon on his side. :))

Alice: Mew (another one-of-a-kind Pokemon, but cute as well as super powerful.)


	280. Studying

Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update, but this weekend, I managed to get out and enjoy some lovely spring weather. (This weekend, we're looking at mostly rain, I think...) This is one of those chapters that required some research, but which still might be riddled with inaccuracies. I'm not sure when colleges started teaching students about MRI machines, or if a student who wasn't pre-med could really take the kinds of classes I describe below, but I'm operating under the impression that, a) the Cullens can get into pretty much any class they want, and b) I'm assuming that auditing classes has always been an option, so even if Edward and Rosalie couldn't actually register, they could sit in on classes and take notes for Carlisle if he couldn't be there himself.

Anyway, as you may have guessed, this chapter shows the Cullens in college, and how Edward and Rosalie might sometimes help Carlisle take extra classes while pursuing a new medical degree. (In "Breaking Dawn," I think, it's mentioned that Edward and Rosalie have both studied some aspects of medicine, so here's a bit of that.) Thanks as always for your reviews and for following this story for so long; I'm a bit sad that there are only twenty chapters left, but I'll do my best to make all of them great! :) See you next Sunday!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and the first "New Moon" graphic novel comes out at the end of this month! (Even though I know what happens, I still can't wait to read it. :))

_1989_: Studying

Carlisle's POV

"Here are my notes, plus a graph that you're going to want to keep in mind," Rosalie said, handing Carlisle a thin stack of papers. "It shows how the MR signal is effected by the variables TE and TR. Different weights of MRI scan have different lengths of TE and TR, which refer to echo time and repetition time respectively, which I'm sure is very interesting if you're trying to detect abnormal growths or other signs of disease within the human body."

"Thank you, Rose," Carlisle said, examining her neatly written notes. "I really appreciate this—I know the subject matter isn't really to your taste, but machines like this are becoming more and more common. Soon, they'll probably be in every hospital, so I'm glad to have some background information before that happens."

Carlisle was sitting in the student union with Rosalie, waiting for the others to get out of their classes for the day. The whole family was back in college again, and though Edward and Rosalie were majoring in Biology and Chemistry respectively, they were each taking a class on Carlisle's behalf that semester. Carlisle tried to always take between 15 and 18 credits every semester, and since he was already taking a conspicuous 19 credits, Edward had offered and Rosalie had reluctantly agreed to take a couple of medical technology courses that were open to all students, regardless of whether or not they were pre-med.

"Well, it isn't all bad. At least my professor is easy on the eyes, for a human," Rosalie said with a smile. "Don't tell Emmett, but I keep smiling at the guy, just to make him lose his train of thought. Yesterday, he was going on and on about the history of Magnetic Resonance Imaging, and when I smiled at him, he dropped his notes and took a full minute to find his place again."

"You know that's not very nice," Carlisle murmured.

"Science isn't always nice," Rosalie said with a shrug. "Consider what I'm doing a sociological experiment. How will the decent-looking but rather socially awkward professor react when a gorgeous student smiles at him? How will the other students, most of whom are similarly awkward but also very intelligent, react to the presence of a goddess in their midst?"

Carlisle chuckled. "I'm not sure your experiment is very scientific. If you're doing something for the sole purpose of amusing yourself, I'm thinking you lack objectivity."

"The way I see it, sociology is a rather subjective field of study anyway. Oh, here comes Edward with the rest of your homework," Rosalie said, waving to a familiar figure standing at the other side of the union.

"Well, after two classes, I'm still not sure if the science of pharmacology is amazing, unnerving, or both," Edward said, joining them at their table. "Did you know that some incredible advances have been made in mucus-controlling agents over the past few years?"

"Now I do, although I rather wish I didn't," Rosalie said with a scowl.

"You're the one who's majoring in Chemistry," Edward said, smiling as he handed Carlisle his notes. "The chemical formulas for many drugs, even mucus-controlling agents, are rather beautiful in their way."

"Forgive me if I prefer the abstract science of chemistry to the obscure art of mixing up chemicals to inhibit _mucus_," Rosalie said, making a face. Then she grinned when she saw Emmett and Jasper appear in another doorway; they had a history class together.

"Did you make him spill his coffee again today?" Emmett called.

"No, he dropped his notes!" Rosalie said, and Emmett laughed.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to tell Emmett about the way you've been smiling at your professor," Carlisle said, bemused.

"Yes, but that's just because I enjoy the idea of secrets," Rosalie said. "In reality though, I usually tell Emmett everything before he even has a chance to wonder what I've been up to."

"Fifty bucks says you ace your final exam if you accidentally-on-purpose bump into him that day," Emmett said, sitting down beside Rosalie. "Let's say you pretend to drop your books, and then he could help you pick them up. Then you could touch his hand and say "I really enjoyed your class this semester." Seriously, instant A. Not that you wouldn't earn an A anyway, but I bet that you could leave every answer on your next quiz blank and still get 100% if you write "I think you're cute" at the top of the page."

"Even I'm not that evil, Emmett," Rosalie said, rolling her eyes. "Besides, if you really thought that was a good idea, you wouldn't be suggesting it with Carlisle sitting right here. I think our parents disapprove of schemes of that nature."

"We do, actually," Carlisle said, raising his eyebrows at Emmett.

"Oh well," Emmett said. "At least history should keep me amused this semester. This is only our second class, and today, Jasper almost ripped his textbook in half."

"You'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now," Jasper said, shaking his head. "Never take a class on a war you actually fought in. Now I'm going to have to spend a whole semester listening to someone butcher the names of people and places and give a thoroughly union-centric account of the Civil War. It's not like everyone in the South was in it for economic reasons, or because of slavery. Some of us really believed that we were doing our duty by defending our homes and families from a hostile army."

"At least you've stopped calling it "The War of Northern Aggression," Alice said, slipping around a crowd of students and perching on the arm of Jasper's chair.

"'Civil War' is still a misnomer though," Jasper said, putting his arm around her. "You might as well call something a "Civil Murder." It's a contradiction."

"Like 'friendly fire,'" Alice said. "But does it matter that the name contradicts itself? People have accepted its definition in spite of that. If a name sticks, I think people stop worrying pretty quickly about its accuracy."

"Let's see, do I want to hear about nomenclature, or do I want Edward to tell me more about mucus?" Rosalie said to no one in particular.

"Mucus?" Emmett said blankly.

"Mucus-controlling agents," Edward clarified. "They're apparently fascinating, if you're a student of pharmacology."

"I think even they might say that the word "fascinating" is a bit of an exaggeration," Carlisle said, smiling when he saw Esme coming toward them, textbooks in hand.

"That new Renaissance exhibit finally opened," she said without preamble. "Do you mind if we check it out before going home tonight?"

"Hey, you've got a lot of studying to do tonight," Rosalie said with mock severity. "Don't forget about that while you're out having fun."

"I won't," Carlisle promised, taking Esme's hand. Of course it would only take him a few minutes to read all of Rosalie's and Edward's notes and to commit everything to memory, and he would likewise be trained on new diagnostic tools like the MRI machine once he was a practicing physician again. However, there had been so many advances in the field of medicine over the past few years that Carlisle was eager to learn all he could about every new development.

He could understand why human doctors specialized in certain areas of medicine the way they did; had he been human, he didn't think he could have kept up with so many new drugs and technologies. But college wasn't just about learning—it was about expanding one's horizons, and Carlisle thought that no matter how long he lived, that would always be important. For all of his life as an immortal, Carlisle had had a hard time understanding how ordinary vampires could live the way they did, and not just in terms of taking countless human lives. He couldn't understand traveling from place to place, living in the shadows, never doing anything but existing.

Carlisle had learned long ago that if he was going to continue to exist, he needed his life to have purpose: he wanted to help people, to heal them if possible; he wanted to help his family to be happy; and he wanted to love Esme. She was part of what Carlisle loved about attending college, because every time they enrolled at a new school, he knew that she would inevitably discover new passions, new ideas and works of art that would inspire her. She in turn inspired him to keep working, to do what he could to make the world a healthier place just as she sought to make it a more beautiful one. Immortality aside, they were only two people, and they could only do so much…but Esme always reminded Carlisle of life's amazing potential to surprise him. Idly, he wondered if he might someday manage to cure cancer anonymously…

"Neither of us has class tomorrow, so we can study then," Esme promised, winking at him, and Carlisle grinned. He knew that whenever he was alone with Esme, they would inevitably wind up doing a lot more than simply studying.


	281. Invasion

Hi everyone! Sorry for another late update, but whenever the weather's nice, I have a hard time getting much done inside on the weekend. (This weekend though, it's really supposed to rain, so maybe I'll actually be on time with the next chapter...) Today's chapter is a fun one, and it's a reader request: in it, Garrett visits the Cullens during the sixties and discusses the British Invasion. I'm glad to finally be doing a chapter from the point of view of a nomad, because I feel like Garrett is someone who'd accept the Cullens' lifestyle without having any interest in trying it himself (at least until he met Kate.) Obviously, he thinks it's strange not to drink human blood, but he's probably more open-minded about it than the Volturi, who have been feeding on humans for over a millennia. (In spite of Aro's fondness for Carlisle, I feel like the Volturi see the Cullens as freaks, while the Cullens' nomadic friends are probably amused or a bit unnerved by their diet, but generally, they accept that that's just how the Cullens are.)

Fun fact: the arrangement that Esme mentions below (and which Garrett dubs a conspiracy) was apparently a real thing: the Beatles and the Rolling Stones knew each other, and in his autobiography, Keith Richards talks about how he might call John Lennon to see if the Beatles had a song ready or not so that both bands wouldn't release singles in the same week. See, who says fanfic isn't educational? (I'm assuming that some people say that, but I don't really know…) Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

_1964_: Invasion

Garrett's POV

As he followed the scent of vampire toward the big house at the end of a long driveway, Garrett noted that in spite of how long they'd known each other, it was always strange, visiting Carlisle, perhaps more so now that he had a family who were willing to share his strange dietary habits. Garrett could understand on an intellectual level why Carlisle lived the way he did, but Garrett couldn't imagine not drinking human blood as long as there were humans around who _deserved_ to be consumed. Humans like the so-called musicians who had recently invaded radio airwaves...

Garrett grimaced when he stopped in front of the Cullen house. From an open window, he could hear the strains of "Not Fade Away."

"It looks like you've just beat the sunrise," Carlisle said, opening the door and smiling at his old friend. His wife Esme was beside him, and Garrett nodded at them both.

"You were right, I had no trouble finding the place. There are traces of vampire scent for miles around." Then he scowled as someone turned up the volume on the record that was playing, and nodded up at the open window. "That's 'England's Newest Hit Makers,' isn't it? The Rolling...something."

"Stones," Esme said, looking amused. "Since it seems like you're trying to pretend that you don't know the name, I take it you're not a fan?"

Garrett shook his head. "Not so much. You know they're calling this new trend in music "The British Invasion." With a name like that, they could hardly appeal to me, even if I didn't hate their music."

"Well, to each his own," Carlisle said with a smile. "Although a lot of British bands have certainly invaded our house lately."

"We knew you were coming, so we thought we'd make you feel welcome, Garrett!" Emmett called, poking his head out of the window, and Garrett could hear Rosalie laughing from inside. "You know, give you something to rebel against."

"You'd best turn that off, or I'm going to come upstairs and destroy your record player," Garrett warned, shaking his head when Rosalie and Emmett only laughed harder and turned the music up again.

"Don't worry, they'll get tired of teasing you eventually," Esme promised. "Emmett, Rose, be nice to our guest or I won't stop him from getting at your record collection."

The music decreased in volume then, and Garrett smiled as he followed his friends inside. He was glad that Carlisle had found a mate like Esme; after a couple of centuries as a bachelor himself, he thought he might like to find someone someday too...provided they didn't mind the life of a nomad, or share the Cullens' aversion to hunting humans.

Inside the house, it was clear to Garrett why Carlisle no longer lived as a nomad; having a family of six meant the house was full of all manner of furniture, books, works of art, records, and clothes too. Garrett supposed that passing for human entailed changing your clothes more than every few weeks or so.

"We've got some albums by the Beatles too if you'd prefer that," Edward said; Garrett suspected that he was actually playing one of their songs on the piano.

"I'll pass," he said, nodding at Alice and Jasper, who rose from their place on one of the couches to say hello.

"For your sake, Garrett, I'm sorry to say that this trend isn't going to go away any time soon," Alice announced. "You're looking at a few more years of stuff like this, at least."

Garrett groaned. "Thank you, Alice. Thank you for denying me the hope that at least my suffering might be short-lived."

"Well, if nothing else, you know to avoid radios for the next decade or so," Jasper said with a smile.

"Two decades maybe, just to be safe," Alice said, squinting as though she could divine the future of popular music by gazing into the distance.

"Guess I'll have to wander around Canada for a while again," Garrett said with a shrug. "There, if I'm not hunting, I can go days without getting within miles of a radio."

"Come on, you really don't like any of this kind of music?" Emmett said, bounding down the stairs with Rosalie right behind him. Everyone seemed glad to see him, and Garrett guessed that that was because they seldom risked having visitors in a place where, if someone hunted too conspicuously, they would have to relocate. Of course, for the sake of his friends, he'd hunted a few days ago, and Garrett would leave before he had to feed again.

"I really don't," Garrett said with a smirk, "though I'll be the first to admit that I may be slightly biased. Besides, I can't help but think it's a bit suspicious, all these British bands getting popular at the same time."

"You know, I've read that in Britain, the Beatles and the Rolling Stones have an arrangement—they make sure not to release songs in the same week, so they can each get the most air time possible," Esme said with a smile, probably guessing that she was only fueling his half-serious wrath.

"It's a conspiracy," Garrett said grimly. "They couldn't take us over by force two centuries ago, so now they're trying to conquer us with music."

"That sounds like the kind of war I could get behind," Edward said with a smile. "It beats armed combat anyway."

Carlisle chuckled. "If every great war in history could have been decided by music instead of with armies, the world would be a very different place."

"Mmm, and the British Empire would have gone the way of the dinosaurs that much sooner, judging by their current musical efforts," Garrett said with relish.

Emmett rolled his eyes. "Just to be safe, I think I'm going to keep our records hidden as long as you're visiting."

"It's been unusually sunny of late, but we're hoping for more cloudy weather while you're here," Carlisle said. "This area's beautiful in the spring."

"Was there anything in particular you were hoping to do while you're here, Garrett?" Esme asked.

Garrett smiled; it seemed that the Cullens were so used to pretending to be human that they were treating him like any visitor who might come to stay with them, ignoring the fact that, unlike most tourists, he'd have few qualms about feeding on their human neighbors. "Well, I only plan to stop a few days, but I suppose I might give high school a try. I've always wondered what you all see in it."

"I think you might look a bit too...feral for that, Garrett," Rosalie said, raising her eyebrows at his appearance. "You'd either have the humans infatuated with your wildness or terrified of it. Or both."

"Hey, I like a challenge!" Alice said, studying Garrett. "With the right clothes, he just might pass for a high school student. He could be our cousin."

"Our cousin the juvenile delinquent, maybe," Jasper suggested, and Garrett grinned. It was always entertaining, visiting the Cullens, even if doing so meant curbing his appetite temporarily…


	282. Growing

Hi everyone! This week's chapter is probably the last chapter from Charlie's POV, so that's a bit sad, but I think it's a good one. In it, Charlie and Sue discuss the Cullens a few months after the events of "Breaking Dawn." I really like writing about these two, since they bring a human perspective to all the supernatural goings-on in Forks. (Plus, I just like these two as a couple; I like to think that they really make each other happy and support each other through both normal and supernatural parenting situations. :)) Thanks as always for your reviews, and I've gotten some great reader requests lately, so look for some of those soon! See you next Sunday. :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I can't wait to read the first "New Moon" graphic novel in a couple of weeks! (Yeah, I keep thinking it comes out on the 23rd...nope, the 30th...)

_2007_: Growing

Charlie's POV

Near the hall closet in Charlie's house, there was a small section of wall marked by a vertical line made of small marks in pencil. Some of the lines had been there for years: those ones measured Bella's growth from the time she'd been old enough to stand until she'd turned eleven and declared that she was too old for the whole measuring thing. (Charlie had been glad when Sue had told him that Leah had said basically the same thing at that age.) The newer pencil marks were Nessie's. In just a few months, Nessie had grown as much as Bella had over the course of several years, and though this should have been alarming, Charlie was bemused to find that he was just happy that the kid was healthy, and happy that Bella seemed all right. Walking past the wall now on his way to the kitchen, Charlie shook his head. His life had never been stranger than it was now, but it had never been better somehow either.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Sue asked, emerging from the kitchen and smiling at him.

"Just looking at the wall," Charlie said, nodding at the pencil marks. "Nessie's already the same height that Bella was when she was four years old. Kid's growing fast."

"Well, that's just the way she is," Sue said with a shrug, putting her arm around him.

"Yeah," Charlie said, walking with her into the kitchen. "You've got experience being laid back about stuff like this. Guess I've still got a little catching up to do."

It still made Charlie a little edgy to think that Jacob, both of Sue's kids, and who knew how many other kids on the Rez that he'd known all their lives, could apparently turn into _wolves_, but mostly, he tried not to think about it. Aside from eating way more than a normal human should and occasionally disappearing into the woods at night, Leah and Seth were the same kids he'd always known—Jacob too, although his friendship with both Bella and Edward was a little hard to understand.

"Whatever else they are, they're our kids, so I don't worry about any of the weird stuff too much," Sue said, smiling as they both sat down for lunch: meatloaf sandwiches."They all know how to take care of themselves."

"I guess so," Charlie says. "Maybe that's part of what surprises me. This whole world I never knew about, right under my nose, and Bella just falls right into it and lands on her feet. I mean, I certainly had my doubts about Edward..."

"Charlie, believe me," Sue said, "the day Leah tells me she's getting married is the day my hair goes gray from worrying that any guy could be good enough for her. And that's provided she decides to marry someone _without_ the kind of difficult history with me that you have with Edward."

Charlie shrugged. "Even if she'd decided to marry a regular guy, it would have been tough, I guess. Getting married young didn't exactly work out for me and Renée, and I never thought Bella would do the same thing we did. But...they really do seem happy. It kinda pains me to admit it, but maybe Edward's not as much of a creep as I thought he was."

Sue smiled. "Not _as much_ of a creep as you thought. Wow. Coming from you, that's a pretty big compliment."

"Hey, that whole thing where he left for months, without a word of contact, that was seriously messed up," Charlie said, frowning at his plate.

"It was," Sue agreed, shaking her head at the memory. "I know that was hard on both of you."

"Of course, now that I've had a hint of the full extent of the weirdness surrounding the Cullens, I guess he..._maybe _he had his reasons for disappearing like he did. I still don't like it, but maybe he's not a total asshole after all."

Sue burst out laughing at that. "You definitely sound like a father-in-law, Charlie. Every man dreams that the man their daughter marries won't be a _total _asshole."

"Hey, I'm just being honest," Charlie said with a smile. "And it's not like I can say it to anyone else. Obviously, Bella never took my anti-Edward stance too much to heart, and I guess I'd have to tolerate the guy if only because he's Nessie's...dad. She and Bella love the guy, so that's reason enough for me not to hate him anyway."

"Who knows," Sue said. "You might even come to like him someday."

Charlie raised his eyebrows. "In the past year, I've gone from hating the guy to tolerating him to...kind of accepting him. I think liking is still a few years away, no matter how many fishing trips he buys us."

"You're sure that your birthday and Christmas gifts were Edward's idea and not Bella's?" Sue asked.

"Bella's still Bella, whatever else she is now," Charlie said. "She's not really the extravagant-gift type. She probably told Edward to pick me out a new fishing rod for Christmas or a new tackle box for my birthday and instead I get fishing trips. That's his style, not hers."

"I don't know," Sue said thoughtfully. "I bet she's happy to be able to give you things she couldn't have before."

"Well, doctors make a lot of money, and I guess Edward had a lot of inheritance from his parents," Charlie muttered, trying to rationalize how someone who appeared to be a nineteen year old kid had access to so much money. "Anyway, even though I had my doubts, they seem to be doing really well with Nessie."

"Well, she's a very special girl," Sue said, not mentioning Nessie's resemblance to both Edward and Bella despite the fact that she was supposedly adopted. (Charlie never mentioned that either.) "And Edward and Bella are both very...mature, as I understand it. They're a happy little family, and I think that everyone who knows Nessie is just happy to get to be a part of her life."

"No doubt about that," Charlie said, smiling at the countless photos of Nessie affixed to the fridge with magnets. "Kid grows like a weed and all we can do is watch and be amazed." Then he was silent for a moment as they finished eating.

"You know the thing that convinced me that it was okay for Bella to marry him?" Charlie asked, drying the dishes while Sue washed. "It was Edward's parents. Maybe that's bad, that I like them way more than I like him, but knowing Carlisle as long as I have, and getting to know Esme, well, that convinced me that Edward couldn't be so bad. Not if he was their son. I mean, even kids from good families grow up to be serial killers, I guess..."

Sue, who'd paused to take a drink of water, snorted into her water glass. "Um...how did we get from you liking the Cullens to serial killers?"

Charlie shrugged. "It's just that who raises a kid doesn't always matter. Some people would maybe grow up to be terrible people regardless of who their parents were. But Carlisle and Esme are both so sure that Edward's a good guy. I guess I've always trusted their judgment on that, even when I haven't trusted Edward."

Sue smiled, looking less unnerved now. "Well, I guess I do too. I mean, I had my doubts about them in the past, but they really do seem like good people. People you're lucky to call family."

"Yeah," Charlie said, smiling at the thought of Nessie. "The three of us are in this whole "grandparent" thing together—I'm just glad that two people who look younger than me have to be grandparents too."


	283. Longevity

Hi everyone! This week's chapter is a bit sad, but I suppose it's uplifting too, in the sense that the passage of time can make you feel both melancholy about what you've lost, and happy about what you have now. (Basically, this chapter is about existential angst, but it ends on a happy note. :)) I think that Esme's concerns in this chapter are something that would bother all of the Cullens at times; people my grandparents age are amazed at how much the world has changed in their lifetimes, and I imagine that change might be just as jarring for vampires if they were to take the time to reflect on everything that's happened in all their decades or centuries of life, and everything that might happen in the future.

Of course, Carlisle and Esme always try to cheer each other up when one or both of them are feeling down, and this chapter is no exception. Also, in "Eternity" and "I'm Always In Love," I have it that Carlisle and Esme share a birthday—if you want to know why, read "I'm Always In Love" to see how that happened. :) Thanks as always for your reviews; no chapter next week because I'm going on vacation, but I'll be back the week after with a new chapter (possibly a reader request—we'll see :)). Have a great week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I really can't wait to read the "New Moon" graphic novel! (But first I need to pay my bills…)

_1995_: Longevity

Esme's POV

As Esme stood under the gazebo, watching the rain soak the tree-lined footpaths of the park, she smiled sadly at the thought of Columbus as it had been a hundred years ago. It was Esme's one hundredth birthday, and the place where she'd grown up was almost unrecognizable now. The house she'd grown up in was gone, her family's farm sold long ago, and of course the sounds of traffic, music coming from dorms and headphones, and the other ambient noises of the human world were a far cry from those of a century ago.

Carlisle was teaching for a semester at the Ohio State College of Medicine, and Esme was taking classes for a new degree in architecture. Class was over for the day for Esme, and she and Carlisle had agreed to meet at the gazebo in the park near campus—she knew that his class was over by now too, but she'd asked him to find some flowers for her new garden as a birthday gift, so she guessed that that was where he was now. Some years, she and Carlisle gave each other elaborate or expensive gifts on their birthday—they'd agreed to share Esme's shortly before they were married—but some years, one or both of them wanted something simple, as was the case this year. Carlisle had only asked for a few new pairs of homemade socks (knitted carefully by Esme so that they'd be far more durable than socks designed by and made for humans), and Esme only wanted peonies for the garden.

It was strange, being a hundred years old. Esme was happy in her work and schooling, and still as in love with Carlisle as ever…but she couldn't help but worry about the future. Could things really go on this way forever? She tried to imagine living forever and couldn't, because as a unit of time, "forever" left a great deal to the imagination. What would their lives be like in 2095? And for how many centuries could she go on as she had so far in her life? Even for immortals, the future was hardly certain, and in a hundred years time, life had changed so dramatically that Esme wondered if she would even recognize herself, or the world, in another hundred years.

Esme smiled when she saw Carlisle coming. If there was anyone in the world who could make her think that one hundred wasn't so old, and that it might actually be a blessing to live another hundred years, then it was him.

"I managed to find white ones and red ones, but no pink yet," Carlisle said, indicating the potted plants he held in each hand. There was mud on his shirt—he'd obviously had to dig up the small wild peony plants himself, and the pots he'd put them in were a dazzling shade of dark blue, the glaze that covered them giving off a fine sheen.

"Where did you get the pots?" Esme wondered. "And the flowers, for that matter?"

"The flowers I found in a patch of woods behind my office on campus, and I stopped at a garden supply store on the way here for pots and potting soil, so we can keep these healthy until we get them home and plant them." Carlisle nodded out at the rain. "I'm sorry that our birthday's turned out to be so waterlogged."

"That's all right," Esme said, admiring the plants as he set them on the bench beside her. Then, when he sat down on her other side, she took his hand.

"You don't mind waiting to go to the island?" he said.

"We can go when the semester's over," Esme said with a shrug. "Besides, it's better we're not there today. I'm not in much of a mood to celebrate."

"Why not?" Carlisle asked, freeing his hand only to put his arm around her.

"It's just, I can hardly believe that I'm a hundred years old today," Esme said, staring out at the rain and shaking her head. "So much time has gone by since I came into the world. I can hardly believe how much things have changed, or how much they'll no doubt continue to change in the next hundred years. It's just a lot to take in."

"My dear Mrs. Cullen," Carlisle said with what she could tell was feigned gravity, "you hardly look a day over eighty."

Esme burst out laughing at that and smacked him on the arm. "And _you_ hardly look a day over three hundred!" she said with a phony pout that quickly gave way to a grin.

"I know what you mean though," Carlisle said, his expression and tone more serious now. "In all the years I've lived, I've never gotten bored with life at all. But sometimes I do feel the strain of having lived so long without aging."

"I think that for our kind as well as for humans, "longevity" should refer to how long we can live well, not just how long we can physically continue to exist," Esme said thoughtfully. "I mean, from what you've told me about the Volturi—about Marcus in particular—immortality can be a curse as much as a blessing depending on who you are. We've discussed it before, but I suppose I'd like to hear your thoughts on this again: since knowing me, has it ever terrified you, thinking that there might be hundreds, even thousands of years of life ahead of you?"

"Frequently, yes," Carlisle said. "Obviously, before I knew you, I was often gripped by the terrible conviction that I was going to be alone forever. But of course it scares me sometimes, even now, when I think of the future and imagine that there might be things I can't protect you from. Even now, a few atom bombs could destroy everyone we hold dear; even vampires would have been lucky to survive if the Cold War had ever really heated up. But I suppose I mention it so seldom because I assume everyone feels that way sometimes—awed and even a little frightened at how long life can seem, I mean."

"Yes, I suppose that's true," Esme said slowly. "Of course, as a human, I also had those scary moments when life seemed to be going by too fast. Humans suffer from existential angst too—we all wonder why we're here and how long we're going to be here. And usually, whenever I've felt scared about the breadth and scope of immortality, I've always looked for something to distract me, either some project or some time alone with you."

Carlisle smiled. "Your coping mechanisms are similar to mine then. I think I was much the same when I was human too: when I was feeling mastered by the overwhelming potential of my own existence, I'd look for some useful work to keep me occupied."

"I guess that whether you'll live forever or not, all you can ever do is go on and hope that things get better," Esme said, leaning against Carlisle's shoulder. "And I suppose the world has always been a rather scary place, full of messes that seem too big for anyone to fix."

"Even if I really had forever, I could never save everyone or cure every disease," Carlisle said quietly. "But I'm grateful that I can do what I can, and I do my best to look on the bright side of things, because feeling sorry for myself has never done me any good. When I was alone, that was a lot harder, but I've found it's much easier to be optimistic when I get to see you every day."

Esme smiled. Perhaps existing was hard for everyone some days, no matter what age you were. "Did you know that peonies symbolize happy marriage and happy life, but Greek mythology has it that they're really a symbol of shame? With different stories like that, I always prefer the more optimistic one, which I suppose can be naïve, but you're right—I'm not helping myself or anyone else by worrying. The future's going get here eventually, no matter how much I fret about what it might bring, but we've managed to have a happy life so far, and I see no reason why we shouldn't be just as happy in 2095 as we are in 1995."

"So you wanted peonies to represent how happy we are?" Carlisle wondered.

Esme smiled. "Actually, I just like how they smell."

They both chuckled and then sat for a few moments in silence, watching the rain from the shelter of the gazebo.

"Want to start dancing like that scene in "Top Hat"?" Carlisle said suddenly. "I mean, it's raining, we're in a gazebo…"

Esme laughed. "I'll pass, thanks." It was getting dark now, and Esme was looking forward to sitting in front of the fireplace with Carlisle and discovering whatever surprise he had planned for her birthday; he could never seem to limit himself to just one gift.

"Let's go home," she said softly, thinking of their cozy little house just off campus. "I'd like to spend the rest of our birthday just with you. And let's make a fire tonight—I know it's not very cold tonight, but—"

"But it's your birthday, so you can have whatever you'd like," Carlisle said. "That's a perfect idea anyway, because though I know you only asked for these flowers, I've been waiting all day to give you another birthday present."

"Mmm, and what might that be?" Esme said eagerly, taking a plant in one hand and the collar of Carlisle's jacket in the other, pulling him to her for a quick kiss. She had a special birthday surprise for Carlisle too, but she would wait and reveal that later…

Carlisle simply grinned. "You'll just have to unwrap me and see."


	284. Threat

Hi everyone! Today's chapter is a reader request, but it's also the sort of chapter that I haven't written in a while: that is, it takes place at around the same time that I'm writing it. It's been 2013 for several months now, but I only just realized that since Nessie was born in 2006, she'd be almost seven years old in May 2013, and thus nearly full grown. I'm going to write a bit more about Nessie as an adult before "Eternity" ends, but in this chapter, she's just going to appear briefly before Alice and Edward discuss the vision she had back at the end of "Breaking Dawn."

(This is what we see at the end of the movie, and the reader suggestion basically asked to see how Edward and Alice might have dealt with such a terrifying vision, since they can never forget having seen it.) Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! (Also, new "Stregoni Benefici, Unico" this week, so check that out too if you want to read more about Carlisle. :))

_2013_: Threat

Alice's POV

It was a warm spring day in Wisconsin, and Alice was sitting on the couch, waiting for Jasper to get home from taking a final exam. No one was technically in college at the moment, but most of the family had taken at least one class at the local college that year so they could keep an eye on Nessie, who was giving college a try. She and Jacob were both in college for the first time, and though everyone wanted Nessie to have her independence, it was impossible not to worry a little.

"It's just, you're not quite as indestructible as the rest of us," Bella had said gently when Nessie had asked, her tone both amused and aggrieved, if she was going to be allowed anywhere without a chaperone before her actual eighteenth birthday.

"Is it because I'm mentally and physically eighteen but technically only seven?" she'd demanded of everyone when she'd learned that they would be on campus in the fall too. (Edward and Bella had at least made sure that no one was in the same classes as Nessie or Jacob, so they could both conduct their lives as college students with some degree of autonomy.)

"Of course not, Ness," Edward said easily. (Except of course, that was exactly what made it hard for everyone to relax.) "We'd all just like to experiment with what we might major in next. Now that you're almost an adult, we all might decide to live apart over the next few years. Your mother and I have never really lived all on our own, so we're just trying to decide what to do if you choose...to start living on your own too."

"Which is fine," Bella had said quickly. (Nessie, Alice knew, was still a little miffed at her parents for attending the same high school she'd graduated from earlier that year.)

"We'll be happy to help you figure out where you want to live and then get you set up with an apartment," Edward agreed, squeezing Bella's hand as tightly as she was squeezing his. (Alice had known, sitting in the living room then, that they all shared the same mixture of sadness and pride when they saw what a wonderful young woman Nessie had become—it had just happened so fast! Even Alice couldn't have predicted how she would feel now that Nessie was really almost fully grown—once her seventh birthday had passed, there would be no more buying her new clothes when she grew out of things, no more photo albums charting her growth spurts…no more pretending that Nessie was going to be a child for a little while longer…

"Well, thank you," Nessie said slowly. "This first year, I'll probably stay at home while I decide what I really want to major in, but next summer, I'd like to start touring schools and deciding if I want to study here or somewhere abroad for a few years."

Rosalie had sniffed audibly at that.

"Aunt Rose, you're not allowed to start crying," Nessie had said, her voice softening. "It's not like I'm just going to disappear from your lives now that I'm an adult. I'd just like to know what it's like to live on my own for a while. And it's not like you won't be visiting me all the time. If anything, I'm going to have to keep my choice of school a secret so you won't be popping in every weekend."

"We...wouldn't do that," Rosalie said unconvincingly.

"She's a grown-up, Rose," Emmett said, putting his arm around his wife. "We've gotta let her have her freedom, you know?"

"Thank you, Uncle Emmett," Nessie said, smiling at him.

"Honey, wherever you go and whatever you decide to do, we promise to support you—discreetly," Esme said.

"We really will try to control our overprotective tendencies," Carlisle said, looking around at everyone in the room. "Won't we?"

"Emphasis on the word 'try,'" Alice murmured with a smile, and Jasper hugged her close. He would miss Nessie too—they'd all grown close to her over the past few years, each in their own way, and though Jasper wasn't one to follow his niece onto a college campus to keep an eye on her (he swore that his wanting to take classes that year was just a coincidence), Alice knew that Jasper would be texting her every day once she was off on her own. (Alice planned to do the same—sure, every day might be a bit much, but Edward and Bella would be calling every day, and like Rosalie, they would have to resist the urge to pack their things and follow her around the world like groupies pursuing an elusive rock star.)

"Okay," Nessie had said, smiling slowly at her assembled relatives. She'd been happy with her family's (admittedly very slight concession) to allow her more independence. "Thank you. I'll still be here for a few more months anyway though. I probably won't start going off on my own until spring."

Alice sighed. It was spring now, the time of year when everything seemed to grow and change almost too fast, even if you'd been alive for almost a century, but there was no denying that it was always beautiful, seeing the grays and browns of winter burst into brilliant green. Nessie was more than able to take care of herself. Her life was changing—though she would have a hard time ever having a job like those Carlisle and Esme were able to pursue, thanks to their being physically older, she was going to start traveling on her own soon, meeting new people and seeing new places without her family with her all the time, and living on her own too…or maybe living with someone else.

Today, as Alice sat in the living room, a stack of manga beside her, while she waited for Jasper, she tried not to brood on the matter of Jacob and Nessie. Alice knew for a fact that they hadn't had sex yet...but they certainly made out like the normal teenagers they weren't. Alice had foreseen a variety of different reactions from the rest of the family if Nessie and Jacob really did decide to become a couple—right now, they were technically dating, but Rose was convinced that it was just innocent kid stuff. (Of course, it was probably in Jacob's best interest that he was such a gentleman—several people would have tried to beat him up if he'd done anything but kiss Nessie so far.)

Carlisle and Esme both wondered if Nessie was interested in Nahuel—he was certainly interested in her, and she enjoyed talking to him about life as a half-immortal, and Rosalie and Emmett were even thinking that she might try dating human boys for a while, once she was full grown, but the rest of the family was fairly certain that Jacob was going to be a permanent part of their lives. Still, it was unnerving to think about them maybe living together next year, or taking their physical relationship to the next level. Alice supposed that this was how all families felt when kids grew up: she was happy for Nessie, glad that she had love and a whole life ahead of her...but Alice couldn't help but remember the little girl she'd been just a few years ago.

When Alice flipped through a photo album filled with Nessie's baby pictures, or sorted clothes that she'd outgrown, it just seemed too soon for her to be an adult. And of course, it was by human standards, but Alice guessed that even humans who'd had twice as many years with their children felt a little queasy with worry when their kids started to discover love and lust. Of course, Alice told herself, many people couldn't rely on their children's strength or intelligence the way they could with Nessie, and most teenage girls didn't have a protector in the form of an intimidating maybe-boyfriend who, if the need arose, could turn into a giant wolf.

(And if Jacob ever broke her heart—not much chance of that, but still—Alice knew that she'd join Rose, Edward, and Bella in making Jacob very, very sorry for it.)

Alice smiled when she heard Nessie running down the stairs—she'd be leaving home soon, but she wasn't quite gone yet.

"Is everyone else still out?" Nessie wondered, coming downstairs in jean shorts and a tank top.

"Yup, it's just me and your father, who's out working on his car," Alice said, smiling at her niece. "Going to a movie?"

"Yeah, Jacob's going to meet me there," Nessie said with a smile. "Is it okay if I take Uncle Jasper's motorcycle?"

"I think we both know that the answer to that question is a resounding 'no,'" Alice said, laughing when Nessie rolled her eyes. "Sorry, but you know how all us old people worry."

"You know, _not quite_ indestructible is still _almost_ indestructible," Nessie muttered, examining the car keys that hung on hooks by the door. "Fine, then I'm taking your convertible."

"You may have it with my blessing," Alice said grandly. "And put the top down! It's a nice day—I wish I could ride in it on a sunny afternoon like this."

Nessie smiled sympathetically. "Sorry. I always need to remember that even though there are some things that you can do that I can't, there are plenty of other things that the rest of my family can't do that I can."

"Don't lose any sleep over it," Alice said with a shrug, and Nessie rolled her eyes, but they both grinned. Nessie's ability to sleep had been a source of both wonder and amusement for all the Cullen family as long as Nessie had been alive.

"I won't. See you later!"

Alice heard Edward saying goodbye to Nessie from the garage, and then he came inside, wiping some oil from his hands with a paper towel that he tossed over Alice's head and into a wastebasket.

"Hi," Alice said, waving to Edward. "I'm guessing the project that was supposed to keep you busy until Bella got home is now finished?"

"She's taking her last final now," Edward said, sitting in the chair opposite the couch that Alice was sprawled across. "I guess it takes longer to finish a Latin final that it does to change the oil in my Astin Martin."

Alice shrugged. "I can already see that she's aced it—she'll be home soon. It's going to start getting cloudy about the time that Nessie meets Jacob at the movie theater." Then she fell silent.

Edward glanced at Alice and smiled sadly. "Even on a day like this, it's hard not to think about it sometimes, isn't it?"

Alice sighed. He was talking about the vision she'd had that snowy day in December over six years ago. She thought of it at the oddest times, but usually when she was worried about something else, like her present fears needed to be accompanied by a terror from the past.

"It's the little details that always bother me the most," Alice said quietly. "Esme screaming for Carlisle; the sound a head makes when it's snapped off by one of the Volturi, or by one of us. The last time I see Jasper...and how I feel when he's gone. I don't always get a good handle on emotions in my visions, but in that one, I knew immediately how devastated I'd feel if I lost him, and I really felt it at the time, because while Aro examined what I had to show him, I still wasn't sure if he would change his mind. There was this terrible moment when I thought he might go through with it anyway, try to change things so that he wouldn't die..."

"I remember that," Edward said grimly. "Looking back, I probably almost ripped Bella's hand off, I was holding onto her so tightly. In the end, he decided that he didn't dare risk his own life...but the lives of the rest of his family hardly mattered. He would have sacrificed Caius and Marcus and most of the guard if it meant gaining you, and me, and Bella. When he saw that he really could die though, that all his centuries could end in an instant, and that Bella shoving a torch in his face might be the last thing he ever saw...that decided the issue for him."

"Jasper felt his fear," Alice said softly. "It was the only time he ever felt anything from Aro but pride or annoyance or covetousness."

"He hasn't had much cause to fear anyone for a millennia," Edward said. "That's probably the only reason Caius went along with him, and why they haven't come after us yet. He knows that anything that can scare Aro must be something they want to avoid."

"But if we're all separated," Alice whispered, "then even I don't know for sure what the future's going to bring. I mean, we'll be safe for the immediate future. But long term...I don't know."

"Our problems with the Volturi aren't over," Edward agreed. "We all know that...but only you and I know what it might look like if they really seek to destroy us. How we might lose so much, so quickly..."

They settled into an uneasy silence. In the distance, they could both hear Carlisle's car speeding toward the house.

"That's the thing that scares me most, about Nessie going off on her own," Alice whispered. "Even if Jacob's with her, she's so vulnerable compared to the rest of us."

"I know," Edward murmured bleakly, "but we have to let her live, Alice. She has an immortal life ahead of her, and she deserves to be able to decide what kind of life it's going to be—sure, we could guard her forever, follow her everywhere she goes, make her sacrifice freedom for security…but I want a better life for her than that."

Alice smiled sadly. "'He who sacrifices freedom for security deserves neither,' right?"

"It's true," Edward said firmly, glancing out the window as the sound of Carlisle's car approaching grew louder. "She shouldn't have to feel the way we do now—afraid that tragedy is inevitable as long as the Volturi exist. Maybe we're right about that. But we aren't helping Nessie by being afraid. This world's a scary place for everyone's children,

"Anybody home?" Esme called—she and Carlisle came in, both their arms full of bags of art supplies and new books for the family library.

"Hi," Alice said, affecting a normal tone and smiling cheerfully.

Esme took one look at her and joined her on the couch, and then she looked between Alice and Edward. "Worrying about Nessie?"

"And here I thought I was the psychic in the family," Alice said, but she smiled at Esme, grateful that she understood.

"Are we that transparent?" Edward said with a smile.

Carlisle stood beside Edward and put a hand on his shoulder. "We're all worried about her leaving home. Even with Jacob with her…well, she's one of only a few half-immortals in the world. There are so few people like her, and I don't doubt that the Volturi might wish to do her harm if they had anything to gain from it. But she's stronger than we give her credit for, Edward. We owe her the chance to live her own life, make her own choices, even if that means she'll be at risk. Like all families, all we can do is worry about the worst that might happen, but hope for the best."

"You're right," Edward said quietly. "You know, it's nice to be reminded that no matter how old I get, I still have parents to turn to for help when I need it. And Nessie's going to have that too."

"She'll always be your daughter, Edward," Esme said with a fond smile. "Even if she's living on Mars a hundred years from now, piloting a spaceship to meet Jacob for dates, she'll still need you."

Alice laughed at that. Even if the Volturi were still a danger decades or centuries from now (on earth or on other planets), the threat they presented shouldn't stop anyone, least of all Nessie, from living a happy life. Alice would do as Carlisle had said as she watched the future: she would always worry, sure…but in spite of the vision she'd once had of the worst that could happen to their family, she would never forget to hope for the best.


	285. Changes

Hi everyone! The next three chapters are all connected, and they all take place on the same morning in Forks. I feel like the Cullens probably had to move within (at most) a year or so after the events of "Breaking Dawn," so even though Edward and Bella probably visited (along with Nessie and Jacob), I like the idea of the whole family coming back to Forks about five years after they'd left just to see how things had changed. (FYI, the reason Charlie gives for rarely seeing a doctor is also my dad's admittedly lame reason for doing the same. :P) Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you next week with a reader request! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I've finally got the "New Moon" graphic novel, but now I don't have time to read it! Oh well; sometime this summer, I'm sure I'll get the chance…:)

_2012_: Changes

Carlisle's POV

"Well, your cholesterol's a little high, but other than that, I'd say that you're in excellent health, Charlie," Carlisle said. Charlie, sitting in his easy chair, was apparently choosing not to ask how Carlisle knew that after such a cursory examination—high cholesterol was something that Carlisle could smell, but Charlie didn't need to know that, and clearly, he didn't want to.

"Tell me again why you don't like going to the doctor, Dad," Bella said, shaking her head at her father. "I honestly don't understand it."

Charlie shrugged. "Every time I go, they say I've got high blood pressure. 'Course my blood pressure is high when I'm at the doctor—_I don't like going to the doctor_. No offense, Carlisle."

"None taken," Carlisle said with a smile. "I'd be interested to read some statistics about how many men over the age of fifty will voluntarily go to the doctor. I have a feeling that the percentage would be fairly low. But you know, you can prevent a lot of health problems down the road if you see a doctor when you're not feeling well."

Charlie shrugged again, running a hand through his graying hair. "Yeah, but then, if nothing's really wrong with me, I feel like I've wasted my time _and_ the doctor's. Besides, I get an annual physical for work. "

"Yeah, but after you retire, you'll still need a physical every year," Bella said. "Why not just find your own doctor now and get into the habit of going without your boss having to tell you to?"

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Hey. Who's the parent here? Don't worry about, all right? Carlisle says I'm healthy, so I'm healthy."

"All of us are parents here," Bella said, putting a hand on her father's arm. "So you know I can't help but worry about you."

"Right," Charlie said with a sigh. "I'll keep the doctor suggestion in mind, all right?"

"Thanks," Bella said, smiling at Charlie but quickly exchanging a look with Carlisle. She was worried, clearly, but not about the fact that Charlie only rarely saw a doctor of his own volition. Bella was worried because Charlie was getting older, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Of course, there was one thing she _could_ do, but Bella would never turn her father. A few years of immortality had shown her both the opportunities it afforded and the limitations it entailed; though Bella and Edward would be together forever, they couldn't have careers, they would never grow old together like Charlie and Sue, and they would never have grandchildren, unless Nessie's always mysterious physiology threw them all another curveball. Bella was happy as a vampire, Carlisle knew, but she also knew that her father was happy as a human. Charlie had no desire to undergo the kind of drastic change that his daughter had been through. He was comfortable in his humanity, and Bella could never take that from him…but the reality that she would lose him someday pained her deeply.

"Sure you don't want anything to drink?" Charlie offered. "Beer? Soda? Water?"

"We'll both have some water, I think," Bella said, glancing at Carlisle, who nodded.

"Be right back," Charlie said, getting out of his easy chair and heading for the kitchen.

Alone in the living room now, Bella whispered to Carlisle, "his hair's grayer than the last time I saw him."

In answer, Carlisle squeezed her hand for a moment. They both knew that she might never be ready to say goodbye to Charlie, but she would have to someday, and it wouldn't do anyone any good to mourn his eventual loss while he was still alive. So, when her father returned to the room, Bella was smiling cheerfully, not showing any sign that moments ago, she'd been about to cry.

It was an overcast day, though occasional sun pierced the clouds, and after an absence of several years, all the Cullens were back in Forks. Edward, Bella, Nessie, and Jacob had visited Forks several times each year since the family had finally moved away for good, but unlike previous visits, the rest of the Cullens had joined them on this trip. Carlisle, for his part, was enjoying seeing the changes that had occurred in the past few years—he liked Forks, and looked forward to moving back in a few decades.

Bella was spending the morning with her father, just the two of them, though Carlisle had come along at her request so he could give her an opinion on the true state of his health. (Charlie was the sort of person who, even if he was laid low with food poisoning and throwing up every few minutes, would tell his daughter on the phone that he was 'fine,' so Bella had wanted a professional opinion.)

"Well, I have an appointment to keep, so forgive me, but I'm going to step out for a bit," Carlisle said, standing up to leave after taking a polite sip of his water.

"Coming back for lunch?" Charlie asked. "Sue's coming over, and you don't want to miss her cooking."

"Esme and I will be here," Carlisle promised, though of course Nessie, Charlie, and the Clearwaters would be the only ones actually eating. "See you in a bit."

"See you," Bella said, flashing him a grateful smile for the free medical advice. Carlisle knew that as time went on, she was only going to have more cause for concern; Charlie was genetically predisposed to Alzheimer's disease, and bad cholesterol now might mean heart trouble down the road, but today, Bella seemed happy just to be with her father. The two of them didn't seem to have anything in particular planned for that morning—they were both generally quiet people, and Carlisle had the feeling that, when alone, they simply enjoyed each other's company without having to say much. As he stepped outside into the humid air and glanced up at the mercifully overcast sky (Carlisle was glad that the weather was so far amenable for his date with Esme), he wondered how the rest of his family was enjoying being back in Forks...


	286. Driving

Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update, but this weekend, I managed to finally edit a couple of stories I'd been working on for a while. (On a related note, please check out the new chapters in my "Avengers" stories, if you're into Pepperony or Science Bros. :)) Then, last night I had a headache. So, this week, you get a Wednesday chapter and a Sunday chapter! :) Today's chapter is the second in a series of three, and it's a reader request: it shows Edward and Nessie having a bit of father-daughter time, and Esme arrives at the end to set the stage for the next chapter. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and this week, I'm going to figure out what the last 15 chapters of "Eternity" are going to be about. (This will be both fun and sad, I think.)

_2012_: Driving

Nessie's POV

"Okay, so let's review one more time before we get started," Edward said, toying absently with his seatbelt.

Nessie rolled her eyes. "Dad, I've been hearing all about cars since before I could stand. Do we really need to start with the basics?"

"Knowing what to do and actually doing it once you've started the engine are two different things," Edward said firmly. "So. Which pedal does what?"

Nessie sighed dramatically. "You know, I can't imagine learning to drive with you if either of us could actually die in a car crash."

"We could if the car exploded," Edward said, clearly before he could stop himself, and Nessie giggled.

"Mom's right, you can be morbid."

"Pedals," Edward prompted.

"The right is the gas, the left is the brake," Nessie recited dutifully. "Some of our cars have manual transmission, but this one's automatic, so I'm not going to worry about that today because we're keeping things simple. I read somewhere that the clutch is the reason people are taught to drive with only one foot—and so you don't make things confusing for other drivers by always having one foot on the brake."

"Okay," Edward said grimly. "Go ahead and start the car."

Nessie gave her father a sidelong glance as she put the key in the ignition. For weeks, Edward had stalled every time Nessie had suggested that he take her driving; he'd finally agreed to give Nessie a driving lesson while they visited Forks, on the grounds that it was better to practice driving in a rural area, where there would be less traffic and fewer distractions. Bella was actually more relaxed about riding with Nessie than Edward was, and Nessie had overheard her parents talking about that fact.

"It's because you've done a lot more risky things in cars in your life than I have," Bella said knowingly. "Now you think that your bad driving karma might return to you in the form of Nessie driving recklessly too. She won't though—she's a very good driver, Edward, I promise."

Nessie had appreciated her mother's vote of confidence. It wasn't as though her father doubted her driving abilities exactly—he just seemed…nervous. She guessed that this was mostly because, theoretically at least, she could be hurt if they were in some kind of fiery car crash. Nessie didn't get sick, had never been injured, but she was still more breakable that either of her parents. She supposed that, _hypothetically_, she could be hurt if she ran the car into a tree, but in all her life, she'd never sustained an injury that had drawn blood, had never broken a bone or bent cartilage. As far as she could tell, it wasn't possible, but in the eyes of her sometimes overprotective family, just because something hadn't happened yet didn't mean that it couldn't.

"Okay," Nessie said, gently pressing down on the accelerator. "Here we go."

Edward took a deep breath as Nessie began to steer the car down the road. He relaxed little by little as it became clear that Nessie wasn't about to turn the steering wheel too sharply and send them careening into the trees or over a cliff, though he did tense up a bit when they passed the ocean.

"Deep breaths, dad," Nessie said, glancing at him and shaking her head. "Not that you need them."

"Watch the road," Edward said calmly. "Your mother's right—you are a good driver."

"What made you so sure that I wouldn't be?" Nessie wondered.

"Nothing really," Edward said sheepishly. "It's just—I remember being in cars with your mother when she was human, and riding with you always feels the same—I find myself compulsively thinking of everything that can go wrong with a car, everything that might cause an accident. Worrying just seems to be reflexive for me sometimes—it's like if I think about the things that I don't want to have happen, they won't happen. I know it's irrational, but it makes me feel better—like I can stop anything from hurting you if I just acknowledge the possibility that you _could_ get hurt."

"Dad," Nessie said fondly, "I know you worry, but you really don't have to. I am not going to crash the car. The engine is not going to suddenly explode. We are not about to be hit by an asteroid. It's _possible_ that something could hurt me, but it's not exactly probable."

"I know," Edward said, smiling a little now. "Since the day you were born though, I've worried, and I'm probably never going to stop. It's a dad thing."

"It's a paranoid thing," Nessie said, but she guessed that her father was probably right—all good dads worried about their daughters at least a little. It was part of the job.

It was, unfortunately, right at that moment that something seemed to explode under the car. Nessie and Edward both cursed, and Nessie, remembering just in time that she shouldn't slam on the brakes, slowly brought the car to at a stop on the shoulder by tapping the brakes. Then, once they weren't moving, she shut off the engine and turned on the hazard lights.

"So that's what getting a flat tire feels like."

"I just checked everything this morning," Edward said, getting out of the car with Nessie to inspect the flat. As they stared down at the deflated tire, Edward suddenly scowled.

"I'm going to kill Emmett," he said darkly.

Nessie laughed. "You really think he—never mind, stupid question. I guess rigging the tire to blow after a certain number of miles did make for an interesting driving lesson. I sort of can't wait to hear how he did it…"

"You can ask him right before I kill him," Edward said briskly, moving toward the trunk. "Well, now you get to practice changing a tire. I'll hold up the car, you get the spare."

Nessie dutifully retrieved the spare tire from the trunk of the car, and while Edward held the vehicle about a foot off the ground, he explained to Nessie how to remove the hubcap, then loosen the lug nuts and remove the flat tire before putting on the spare. Nessie was just putting the spare tire on when her father tensed, and a moment later, Nessie too could hear the sound of another car approaching.

"That sounds like Esme's car, but just in case, go get the jack," Edward said quickly. Nessie fetched the jack from the trunk and was just sliding it under the car beside her father's hand when Edward relaxed.

"Never mind—it's your grandma, all right. Apparently, Alice called her."

Nessie grinned and returned to the tire. By the time Esme rolled to a stop a few yards behind them, she had the spare tire on, and Edward was gently setting the car back down on all four wheels.

"Hi, grandma!" Nessie called.

"Hi," Esme said, nodding at the car. "I see your lesson had an unexpected interruption."

"Wait, so this wasn't Emmett's fault?" Edward said, clearly reading her mind.

"No, this was just a phenomenal coincidence," Esme said cheerfully, giving Nessie a quick hug. "Nice job with that tire—according to Alice, you hit a nail about a mile back."

"Shoot," Nessie muttered, not wanting to swear in front of grandma. "I should have seen that."

"You can't see everything," Esme said, patting her arm. "Even we miss little things like that sometimes. I've had plenty of flat tires over the years."

"Plus, I was distracting her by worrying," Edward said with a smile. "But now that you've changed the tire, we can drive for a while longer, if you'd like."

Nessie checked her watch. "Sure, since we don't have to be at grandpa's until noon. Where are you going, grandma?"

"I'm going to drop off some snacks at the Clearwaters," Esme said. "Then, Alice said she wants me to come out to our old house so I can see the apparently 'frightful' state of the decor."

Nessie grinned. "Have fun with that—do you think the cottage is okay?"

"I'm sure it's still standing, but it's going to need some repairs whenever we move back someday," Esme said thoughtfully. "I'll take a look before I meet Carlisle. Like a snack before I leave?"

"No, I'm good, thanks," Nessie said, though the smell of cookies and brownies coming from her grandmother's car was tempting—certain human foods had certainly grown on her over the years. "I'm saving room for lunch."

"Well, enjoy the rest of your lesson," Esme said, giving her another hug.

"We will," Nessie said, aiming a sly grin at her father.

Edward smiled and rolled his eyes. "I suppose we really will. She's doing a great job."

"I'm sure she is," Esme said, waving as she walked back to her car, and Nessie smiled, happy that (maybe) her father was starting to worry a little less—he would never completely stop worrying, but at least he was calmer now that he'd seen how well she'd dealt with the flat tire.

"See you at lunch," Nessie called, getting back into the driver's seat. She grinned when Edward sat down beside her and put on his seatbelt. Esme waved again as she drove past them.

"Okay," Edward said, smiling. "Let's try this again."

"Gas, brake," Nessie recited, pointing down at the pedals, "and now I'm starting the engine."

Edward didn't flinch that time, and Nessie settled back in her seat, happy with how the day was going. She was sure that in a way, she would always be a little girl in her father's eyes. And maybe he would always worry about her, but Nessie knew that Edward was proud of her too—Nessie was glad to be growing up, glad that her body was finally starting to match her brain, and glad that she had days like this to enjoy with her family. Driving with her father sitting anxiously beside her, Nessie almost felt like a normal teenager…though when she thought of Edward lifting up a car to help her change a flat tire, she was glad that her family wasn't entirely normal.


	287. Rendezvous

Hi everyone! Today's chapter is the end of this little three-part arc in which the Cullens visit Forks and the surrounding area five years after moving away. In this chapter, Esme visits the Clearwaters, catches a glimpse of the old house, and finally meets up with Carlisle for a quick date. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm almost done with the reading challenge I'm working on—well, I'll be done by the end of June—so soon, I'll be able to finally read the "New Moon" graphic novel! :)

_2012_: Rendezvous

Esme's POV

As she drove away from Nessie and Edward, Esme grinned to herself, already eager to tell Carlisle about the driving lesson. Obviously, Nessie hadn't exactly had an ordinary childhood, but Esme liked to think that between her parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles, Nessie had a family who loved her enough and worried enough that her years as a child, while few, had been full and happy. Even if Nessie didn't need to be worried over, she understood that that was what families did—parents especially—and at least learning to drive while her father fretted beside her was one rite of passage that Nessie didn't have to miss out on.

Esme arrived in La Push a few minutes later. She'd called ahead and talked to Sue Clearwater, who seemed unphased at being asked if a vampire could visit her home. Then again, Sue and her children knew the Cullens almost as well as Jacob did—the mistrust that had existed between their two families had disappeared years ago, but Esme was still a bit surprised at being welcomed into what had once been forbidden territory.

Stopping in front of the Clearwaters' house, Esme retrieved a large tupperware full of cookies and brownies from the back of the car. (Nessie had helped mix up all the ingredients, so though Esme had done the actual baking, she hoped that nothing smelled too strongly of vampire.) Knocking on the front door, Esme was taken off guard when the person who answered the door turned out to be Leah.

"Oh, hi," she said, actually smiling a little. "My mom said you were coming. She's in the kitchen—want me to take that?"

"Thank you," Esme said, recovering herself enough to smile too as she handed Leah the container. "I baked another batch for Jacob and told him that he should share with you and your brother, but I had a feeling that none of the food I gave him would actually make it over here."

Leah laughed. "Yeah, no—we're not exactly great at sharing food. I'm sure that pig ate it all himself."

Jacob, like Bella, was spending the morning with his father, and Esme could almost picture him seated on the couch in his old living room, surrounded by brownie and cookie crumbs.

"Is that Esme?" Sue called.

"Yeah," Leah called back. Then she said to Esme, "like to come in?"

"Sure," Esme said, trying not to look surprised as Leah showed her into the kitchen.

"Seth's running around somewhere out back," Leah said after Sue and Esme had said hello. "I'll go find him so he can say hi, and then he can't whine about me not sharing our pre-lunch snack." Then she disappeared out the back door.

"It's good to see you," Sue said, drying her hands on a kitchen towel and then shaking Esme's hand. Then, she began putting together a lasagna while they talked.

"You too," Esme said. "Jacob keeps us updated on what goes on with both packs, but it's nice to see you all. Leah seems much...happier than the last time I saw her."

Sue nodded, her expression pleased. "She's dating someone. She's decided that she's not going to let the wolf thing control her whole life. She's almost done with college, and she's talking about moving to Seattle next year—Leah says now that if she imprints on someone, fine, she'll deal with it when it happens, but it might never happen, and living with the risk of imprinting is no reason to live like a nun—her words."

Esme chuckled. "Well, I'm happy for her. She had a hard time of things, back when we lived here—she deserves to be happy."

Sue nodded. "Thank you. I know that she didn't always get along with you very well in the past, but for Jacob's sake at least, she's determined to be more polite now."

Esme shrugged. "I can't say I blame her for the way she felt about us—if we'd known that our presence would change so many lives here, we would have settled somewhere else."

Sue shook her head. "Most of the kids are glad you came here. They love having the chance to be superheroes."

Esme smiled, relieved that the ability to turn into a giant wolf apparently hadn't thrown too many young lives into disarray. "And how's Seth?"

Sue smiled. "Eating me out of house and home, but I suppose I'd worry if he weren't. He's taking classes online like Leah, but he wants to apply to the University of Washington next year."

"Oh, he'd love it," Esme said. "That's a great school. What does he want to study?"

"Medicine," Sue said proudly. "I think Carlisle had quite an effect on him when your family lived here—Seth wants to be a doctor now, if he can keep all his grades up."

"That's wonderful!" Esme said. "I can't wait to tell Carlisle—I know he'll love to help Seth with anything he needs, though when he gets off on a medical tangent, he can be hard to understand."

Sue shook her head. "Just hearing Seth talk about chemistry gives me a headache. I barely passed in high school, but he did just fine, though he's a little worried now about how much harder college classes are going to be..."

Leah returned with Seth then, now wearing different clothes—she'd apparently had to phase to find him. Seth, seeing Esme, immediately hugged her.

"Long time no see!" he said cheerfully. "And you brought us snacks? Thanks!"

"Well, I was afraid Jacob wouldn't share," Esme said, staring up at Seth. "Just when I think you couldn't get any taller, you surprise me, Seth."

Seth laughed. "Yeah, but I think I'm done growing. Mom says I'd better be or she's going to have to have taller doors put in the house."

"Or you'll have to start slouching," Sue said, putting the tray of lasagna in the oven while it preheated. "Now, of course you won't ruin your appetites by snacking before lunch, but indulge your mother and save some of these snacks for later, all right?"

"We will," Seth and Leah said together—Seth pulled a gallon of milk out of the fridge and Leah grabbed two glasses before they sat down at the kitchen table.

"See, I found you so we can share, so you can't complain about starving to death later," Leah said, opening the tupperware and biting into a brownie. "Mmm, that's good. Thanks, by the way, Esme."

"You're welcome," Esme said, just happy to be having an actual conversation with Leah. "Nessie likes the double chocolate kind, so that's what I made."

"She has great taste," Seth said through the cookie he was enthusiastically devouring. Just then, the oven dinged.

"Okay, lunch should be ready in about an hour. Will we see you at Charlie's a little later?" Sue asked.

"Carlisle and I will be there," Esme said. "I'm going to meet him right now, after I stop and see Alice and Jasper."

"Well, thanks for stopping by and helping me feed these two," Sue said, shaking her head—the gallon of milk was almost empty now. "We always appreciate your cards, Esme."

Esme smiled—she and Carlisle sent gift cards to restaurants to the Clearwaters and the other pack members for virtually every holiday. "Well, we're happy to do something to give you a break. Just feeding Nessie, who doesn't even eat food every day, has reminded me what it's like to have someone who needs to be fed."

"Thanks for the snacks!" Seth called, and Esme laughed when she glanced back and saw that the container was already almost half empty.

"You're welcome. I'll see you in a bit!"

Esme left La Push and drove for a few miles before leaving her car parked on an old dirt road. Then she ran the rest of the way to the house, smiling at the familiar trees and curvature of the hills that told her she was almost there. About a hundred yards from the river, Esme stopped running and raced up a tree to join Alice and Jasper, who were sitting together on a branch and looking in the windows of the house.

"Just look at that carpet!" Alice said indignantly. It was as if they were in the middle of a conversation and Esme hadn't just arrived. "The color scheme in the living room is just...eye-damaging. And look at what this guy has up in his room: bikini girl posters. _Really_?"

"It's my understanding that some young men enjoy bikini girl posters," Jasper said, his arm around Alice.

"He's like thirty-five though," Alice argued. "For a fourteen-year-old, fine, have a bikini girl poster or two. But for an adult, it just seems kind of tacky to me."

"Well, I'm sure he's very sorry that he didn't consult you before decorating his room," Esme said, frowning—Alice was right about the living room, but it would be easy enough to fix when they moved back someday.

"Oh, and they added a hot tub," Alice said, shaking her head. "I don't hate it, it's just..."

"The combination of bikini girl posters and a hot tub for a guy his age is just a bit...hmm," Jasper said diplomatically.

"He's divorced with two children, and he's hoping to start dating again now that he's found such a good job," Alice said thoughtfully. "Someone should really tell him to take down those bikini girl posters before his new girlfriend visits..."

"Well, I'll leave that up to your discretion," Esme said, checking her watch—it was almost time to meet Carlisle. "Judging by the state of the house, they seem like a nice family who are taking care of the place—bikini girl posters don't bother me as long as long as they don't smoke or throw too many wild parties. At the moment, it looks like redecorating shouldn't be too bad when we move back here in a decade or so, though by then we'll need a new roof..."

"Worry about that when the time comes, Esme," Jasper advised, sensing that she her mind was becoming preoccupied by thoughts of remodeling the house about ten years too soon. "This is a vacation after all."

"Exactly, so have fun with Carlisle," Alice said cheerfully, raising and lowering her eyebrows suggestively.

Esme smiled. "I always do."

Then she said goodbye to Alice and Jasper and hopped out of the tree before turning and running toward the ocean. A few miles away, overlooking the Pacific, there was a beautiful spot that Esme thought of as just hers and Carlisle's. (Emmett and Rosalie had a similar spot, she knew, about fifty miles away, which was why Esme suspected she wouldn't be seeing those two again for several days.) When she got to the circle of trees that faced the ocean, Carlisle was already there, a blanket spread out on the ground, the sky above covered by a thin but protective layer of clouds.

"Hi," she said, nodding at the blanket he was sitting on. "What's that for?"

"Keeping our clothes dry," Carlisle said with a smile. "Since we're expected at lunch in about an hour, I thought that in the interest of not getting soaked by the wet ground, we could lay on this."

Esme raised her eyebrows. "I was under the impression that we wouldn't be keeping our clothes on for this little rendezvous. They'll stay plenty dry if we just take them off."

Carlisle grinned and immediately started pulling off his shirt, while Esme, grinning, kicked off her shoes and ran to join him.

"You always have the best ideas," he said, pulling her down into his arms for a kiss.


	288. Prank

Hi everyone! Recently, I had a reader request for a funny Emmett chapter, so I hope this fits the bill. (This is the last Emmett chapter, by the way, which makes me a bit sad, but I think that at least he's going out with a bang. :)) Basically, I feel like Emmett is the sort of person who enjoys pranks, and with Jasper's help, he might pull off some pretty impressive ones. So, this chapter takes place after the end of "Twilight," and it deals with a senior prank that Emmett might have pulled right before he and Rosalie graduated. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and has anyone else read the first "New Moon" graphic novel yet? (I'm still hoarding it to read after the HUB Reading Challenge...:))

_2005_: Prank

Emmett's POV

It was 3:00am on the day before graduation, and Emmett was busy getting ready. While Rosalie started packing for their trip (they were planning to spend a few months abroad after graduating from Forks High School), Emmett and Jasper were at the high school. It was closed, of course, so Emmett had parked several blocks away so as not to attract attention. Slipping inside at more than human speed (they actually found a window that had been left unlocked, so technically, Emmett thought that it didn't even count as breaking and entering), they hurried to unpack the various boxes and backpacks they'd brought along. Emmett grinned; this would be a senior prank that Forks would never forget.

Blowing up the balloons alone took three hours, even with Jasper's help—once the helium tank was empty, they had no choice but to inflate the balloons themselves, but at least neither of them needed to breathe anyway. Emptying the cages didn't take long though, and while Jasper took care of that, Emmett was able to find every doorknob in the school and take care of it. Then, he and Jasper each took half of the school and saw to the tables and chairs, and after he managed to get the fog machine where he wanted it, Emmett was satisfied.

"Okay," he said, checking his watch. "We'd better leave before anyone from the school gets here—I'm thinking our wives might seriously consider killing us if we get caught and miss graduation." (It had happened before, and Rosalie and Alice really hadn't been pleased.)

"They might still kill us," Jasper pointed out, "when we tell them about this."

"Nah, I think they'll be impressed by our dedication to creative mayhem," Emmett said confidently, climbing into the Jeep and speeding off an instant after Jasper's door had closed.

"Well, you'll be leaving the country in a few days, and as long as I keep a low profile from now on, I guess our wives and parents won't mind us acting like real human teenagers just for today," Jasper said wryly.

"As long as we don't get caught, which we won't," Emmett said. "Come on, we just pulled off the perfect crime!"

"Yeah, except who but the Cullens would have the resources to pull off a multifaceted prank of this magnitude?"

"You know how teenagers are," Emmett said confidently. "Different kids will take credit for different parts of our prank out of a desire to look cool, and even if the stuff they tell their friends gets back to any teachers, it's not like anyone's going to get in trouble: we didn't leave any evidence behind implicating anyone. Besides, as pranks go, this one is pretty harmless."

"Except for our furry friends," Jasper said, raising his eyebrows.

"Hey, do you know how fast those things breed?" Emmett said with a grin. "You know, I've read that after pranks like this, you can still find them in schools sometimes _decades_ later."

"Yikes," Jasper said, chuckling. "Well, I bow to your superior experience with pranks, and I'm glad I could help. Unless we're caught, in which case the whole thing was your idea, and I'm just your easily-influenced little brother."

"Yeah, right," Emmett snorted. "Like you'd throw me under the bus like that. You're too much of an old soldier to let your commanding officer go down alone."

"Maybe, but you're a Yankee anyway," Jasper said slyly. "Who's to say I won't secede from our little union of pranksters to save my own skin?"

"I'll believe that when I see it," Emmett said with a laugh.

The truth was, they'd gotten caught pulling pranks before. Part of the challenge of a really good prank was making it something that a human high school student could actually accomplish, and in that spirit, Emmett had let himself get caught a couple of times in the past, mostly because he was curious to see what the consequences of such a thing would be. And though Emmett was always the mastermind, Jasper almost invariably got in trouble too.

Usually, "trouble" in these situations entailed cleaning up the mess that a prank had made, or writing essays about why what they'd done was wrong, and though Jasper complained, Emmett knew that he never really minded. For both of them, the very small risk was worth the reward of doing something they weren't supposed to; as Cullens, much of their lives revolved around caution and self-restraint. Pranks, Emmett had decided long ago, were part of what kept him sane after decades of life as a teenager.

When they got home, there were still a few hours left before they had to leave—graduation didn't start until noon—so Emmett changed into his cap and gown and then stood with Rosalie while Esme took some pictures. Eventually (after a lengthy greeting with Alice), Jasper would probably join them.

"Where have you two been all night?" Rosalie muttered, straightening Emmett's tassel unnecessarily.

Emmett grinned down at her. "We'll tell you all about it later. I can't wait to see the look on Bella's face when I tell this story."

"Oh, what fresh hell is this?" Rosalie groaned. "What ridiculous prank have you two pulled this year?"

"You'll see," Emmett promised. "Trust me, even you'll think this one's funny."

"I doubt that," Rosalie said, but she was already smiling in spite of herself. Rosalie, like Jasper, liked to pretend to be annoyed, but Emmett knew that she really enjoyed his pranks, both for their entertainment value and for the impression they made on humans. Pranks were the rare thing that allowed the Cullens to be, in a way, the center of attention, because though no one actually knew that they were the culprits, people would be talking for days or weeks about what had happened, and Rosalie would know that Emmett was behind it all.

She was always proud of him, proud that he'd done something clever or silly that people would remember, and he loved that she supported him even when it came to things like pranks. It might seem like a small thing to someone else, but Emmett remembered his human father saying a lifetime ago that loving a girl was about the little things, not just the big things. Rosalie's quiet appreciation of his sense of humor was just one more reason why he'd been madly in love with her for decades.

"Want to hear about it before we leave, Esme?" Emmett asked.

"No thank you," Esme said firmly. "Carlisle and I would both like to maintain plausible deniability, Emmett. I just hope you managed to restrained yourselves a little. Just...just tell me that whipped cream wasn't involved this year."

Emmett laughed. "Nah, we learned our lesson after last time. It takes forever to clean that stuff up."

Jasper and Alice appeared then, so Esme took some pictures of Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper together, all of them looking, in Emmett's opinion, as ridiculous as humans did in graduation caps and gowns.

"Ready to go?" Rosalie asked. "I thought we'd spend most of our last day in Forks outside, enjoying the cloudy weather one last time."

"Sounds good to me," Emmett said, putting his arm around her. When Rosalie said 'enjoying the cloudy weather,' she really meant 'making out outside in a public place like we're normal teenagers and not vampires.'

"We'll meet you outside the high school in a couple of hours then," Alice said—she would be in the audience along with Carlisle and Esme, and Edward would join them too, after Bella went to work.

"Tell Edward to try to bring Bella, okay?" Emmett called as he followed Rosalie out the door. "I just know her reaction's gonna be hilarious when she hears about this!"

* * *

About two hours later (after doing a lot more than just making out in the woods behind the school but miraculously managing not to damage their graduation clothes), Emmett and Rosalie joined Alice, Jasper, Edward, and Bella at a picnic table outside the high school. People had just started to arrive for graduation, and Edward and Alice, who could hear and see respectively what was going on inside, were both grinning and trying not to laugh.

"And so it begins," Emmett said with a grin. Rosalie rolled her eyes, though when she thought he wasn't looking, Emmett saw her smile at Alice.

Though Rosalie was as aggravated with Bella's continued existence as ever, she agreed to sit at the same table while Emmett told all their siblings, plus Bella, the details of the prank. In fact, Emmett soon saw that she was interested enough that it was easier than usual for her to pretend that Bella, rather than being an irritant, didn't even exist.

"Okay, so Jasper knows all this already, but he's going to let me tell it since it was my brilliant idea. Mostly. Google helped too."

"And our many years as perpetually juvenile delinquents," Jasper said quietly, and Alice kissed him on the cheek, already giggling at what she knew Emmett was about to say.

"Right, we've done most of these pranks before, but never all of them at the same time," Emmett said, grinning at Bella's look of growing curiosity.

"So, what did you guys do?" she asked suspiciously. "And bear in mind that my dad is the chief of police."

Emmett grinned. "Let's see. First, we filled the gym with balloons, which took a while, because we had to blow up hundreds of them, and the helium tank eventually ran out."

"Hundreds?" Bella repeated.

"Over a thousand, actually," Jasper said with a smile. "I doubt they'll have time to remove them all before graduation today, but at least balloons are festive and not particularly messy."

"We were going to fill them with whipped cream, but that would have taken even longer," Emmett explained.

"And it would have made a huge mess which you would have had to clean up when Carlisle and Esme found out," Alice said serenely. (She'd foreseen this possibility and warned Emmett and Jasper not to do anything involving whipped cream.)

"Then, we released a couple hundred mice, which only took a few seconds, since the mice were terrified of us," Emmett said.

Bella's jaw dropped. "Two _hundred _mice?"

"Yeah, and by the time school starts in the fall, there should be a lot more," Emmett said with a grin.

"Assuming no one calls an exterminator," Jasper said. "Though mice can be notoriously hard to get rid of. According to the internet, Forks High School might have mice for decades."

"I almost feel sorry for the mice," Bella said. "I mean, living your whole life in—never mind."

"In high school, you mean," Rosalie said archly, and Emmett thought that the only reason there wasn't more acid in her tone was because of their recent alone time in the woods. Plus, Jasper was probably helping to keep the mood light—with Bella around, that could be tricky.

Bella bit her lip and Edward squeezed her hand. "Rose," he said, giving her a look.

"I'm not even disagreeing," Rosalie said with a shrug. "It would be a special sort of hell, living in the walls of a high school. At least mice can't understand all the inane chatter that goes on here."

"Most of them will probably escape into the wild anyway," Alice said with a shrug. "Besides, do you know how many house fires are caused by mice every year? They may be cute, but they're pretty destructive even without Emmett and Jasper helping their population to grow."

"Anyway," Emmett said, "after the mice, I put Vaseline on every doorknob in the school, then turned on the fog machine."

Rosalie grinned at that and Bella and Alice both started laughing.

"Why a fog machine?" Bella wondered.

"Because every prank is better with a fog machine in an air duct, Bella!" Emmett said. "Duh!"

"Sorry, I guess that's obvious," Bella said, grinning. "Was that the extent of your evil plan then?"

"Well, then we kind of turned every table and chair in the building upside down," Emmett said with a shrug. "I wanted to nail them to the ceiling, but that just seemed like going overboard."

"Right, because everything else you two did was perfectly reasonable," Rosalie said, shaking her head—she was still smiling though.

"All in all, I think it was a pretty good prank, you guys," Alice said, gazing into the future. "People will remember it, but you didn't actually damage any school property or cause too much trouble for anyone. It looks like turning all the furniture right side up is going to be good exercise for the summer school kids...they're going to hate your guts for this, but no one else is going to mind too much. The school isn't even going to call Charlie."

"Well, thanks for telling me about the prank. And congratulations on graduating," Bella said, glancing shyly at Rosalie and Emmett. "Sorry I have to work today."

"Ah, graduation ceremonies are pretty boring and all pretty much the same," Emmett said with a shrug. "You'll find out next year."

"I'll be back after I drop Bella off," Edward said, standing up and helping Bella to her feet. (Even with a walking cast, forward mobility was still a little difficult for her.) "Save me a seat, all right?"

"Will do," Alice said cheerfully. "You'll get back just as Carlisle and Esme are arriving, and all three of you will be in time to see them get the last of the balloons out of the gym."

"Aww," Emmett said. "They should have left at least a few—they looked so festive!"

"By 'festive,' do you mean 'the work of two maniacs'?" Rosalie teased.

"Ah, you know you love my warped sense of humor," Emmett said, leaning down to kiss her.

Rosalie smiled. "I really do."


	289. Admired

Hi everyone! Today's chapter is one that I've wanted to do for a while; it deals with Rosalie encountering the Cullens when she was still human. (She mentions in "Eclipse" that this happened once or twice, and that at the time, she disliked them because of their striking good looks.) Once again though, I've gone a couple of weeks without a Carlisle and Esme chapter—sorry about that. Next week, we'll be back with them for a more romantic chapter (though it takes place in a cemetery, so it's a bit morbid too), so please look forward to it! Thanks for your reviews and I'll see you next Sunday! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and though I did some research for this chapter, any anachronisms you find below regarding parties in 1933 are my own.

_1933_: Admired

Rosalie's POV

It was, some said, more than a little tasteless to throw extravagant parties when times were so hard for so many. Rosalie herself was not personally acquainted with anyone who said such things, but her mother knew of high society women—the sorts especially active in charitable societies—who had refused to attend virtually any social event since the crash of '29! Which was silly, of course—sitting at home and being dour wasn't going to help the poor, and since the Hale family gave to several charities, Mrs. Hale always said that there was no reason why they shouldn't go out and enjoy themselves now and again, or invite friends into their home to do the same.

Rosalie agreed with her mother—helping others was all well and good, but she couldn't understand people who wouldn't go to parties just because a few people out west were having a hard time. In Rochester, everyone she knew was fairly well off—not as well off as her family, perhaps, but she'd never seen anyone actually starving, or living in those frightful shantytowns they wrote about in the papers. Yes, there were poor people, but her father was a bit skeptical that things were really as bad as some reporters made them out to be. This was America, after all. It seemed inconceivable that people could really be starving in the good old USA, and if they were, wasn't it possible that the poor themselves were to blame, that bad judgement or a lackluster work ethic had brought them to their lowly state?

As she put her hair up in an elaborate arrangement for the party that night—a celebration in honor of her mother's birthday—Rosalie considered current events without much interest. Her friend Grace had been hounding her to think about something other than Royce King for a change, so she'd glanced at the newspaper that morning and asked both her parents what they thought of the news of the day. In Germany, some people called the Nazis were introducing a lot of new laws that her mother said sounded very unpleasant, and Roosevelt was introducing a new phase of the New Deal, which her father declared to be a waste of money.

So, she would ask Grace about these things at the party tonight—Rosalie was hardly eager to talk about things that had nothing to do with her (or Royce King's probable interest in her), but she would do it to make Grace happy. Grace was a dear friend—not quite as dear as Vera, who was often too busy with her son these days to go out—but she was a bit of a stick in the mud. Rosalie just couldn't understand why she was so serious all the time! Grace was an intellectual sort of girl; she wanted to go to college of all things, and apparently, Grace's parents actually approved of her plans for the fall. Their oldest daughter had met her husband in college, and even Rosalie's mother had suggested that if Royce's interest proved to be a passing fancy, she might enjoy going away to school for a year and finding a new beau. But Rosalie knew that wouldn't be necessary—given the way Royce watched her when they were together, could it be anything but love?

"Mother says to come downstairs, after you put us to bed," her little brother said, poking his head into her room—he was quickly followed by the third Hale sibling, who was currently wiping his runny nose on his hand. "What are you wearing?!"

"_This_ is the latest fashion, you philistine," Rosalie said regally, admiring her new blue dress in the mirror: it had a collar that draped over her shoulders and collarbone like the kind of cloths you saw artfully arranged over female figures in Greek statuary. It was very becoming, and rather daring, in Rosalie's opinion. There could be few other dresses in Rochester like it.

"Are you and Royce going to _dance_?" her other brother asked, grinning at her. There were several gaps in his smile, thanks to the recent loss of some baby teeth.

"Maybe, but only long after you've been put to bed and thoroughly tickled," Rosalie said, turning suddenly and running toward the door. The two boys, shrieking with laughter, ran down the hall toward their rooms, but Rosalie caught one, then the other, and tickled them anyway. Then she helped them get into their pajamas and wash before bed.

Afterward, she went back to her room, carefully put the final touches on her hair and makeup, and went downstairs to join her parents. As they greeted her mother's birthday guests, Rosalie drank in the admiring looks of their visitors, but all the while, she was looking for the familiar faces of her friends, and Royce King too, though he was always fashionably late for parties. Finally, after ten minutes of standing by the door and watching it like a hawk, Rosalie saw one of the people she'd been waiting for.

"Vera, darling!" Rosalie called, waving when she saw her closest friend. "I wasn't sure you'd be able to come."

"I would never miss your mother's birthday," Vera said with a smile, embracing Rosalie. "My sister's watching Henry now. Where are your brothers?"

"The little scamps are already in bed," Rosalie said, shaking her head. "Mother says that they can stay up for her party next year."

"Happy Birthday, Mrs. Hale," Vera said when Rosalie's mother excused herself from a knot of guests to say hello.

"Thank you, Vera," Mrs. Hale said, smiling. "How is your husband?"

"He's very well, thank you," Vera said. "He would have loved to be here, but he and his brother have gone to help a friend from school build a new house."

"That's all right," Rosalie's mother said. "I know that as you kids get older, you're going to have other responsibilities that keep me from seeing you whenever I like."

"Are the Kings here yet?" Vera asked, giving Rosalie a knowing look, and she blushed, pleased.

Her mother smiled, also pleased. "Not yet, but we expect them shortly. Oh, but excuse me, I must say hello to the Carmichaels."

"And here's Grace," Rosalie said, waving at their other friend, who broke away from her parents after a few quiet words and joined them, smiling.

"Hello Rosalie, Vera," Grace said quietly. For a long time, Rosalie had assumed she was shy, but now she believed that Grace was simply the sort of person who had a quiet temperament, though she could get rather loud when she became impassioned about something she'd read or an issue close to her heart.

"Thanks for coming," Rosalie said. "I like your dress."

"Thank you—and thank you for inviting us," Grace said. "You both look lovely as always."

"Oh, pshaw," Vera said, straightening her sleeves. "Henry was chewing on the cuffs of this until the minute I left. But thank you, Grace. How's the college admission process going?"

"It's going well, I think," Grace said, biting her lip. "I've submitted my application, but it will be a few weeks before I know if I've been accepted."

"But of course you will be," Rosalie said firmly. "Grace, you're the smartest girl in our class. And you know, as soon as we sit down, I want to hear what you think of some of the things I read in the paper this morning."

Grace raised her eyebrows. "You've...been reading the paper?"

"Religiously," Rosalie said innocently, and both of her friends laughed. "No, but I did read a bit today, because I knew I was going to see you."

"And what exactly would you like to discuss?" Grace said amiably.

"Girls," Vera whispered suddenly, nodding toward the door. "The Cullens are here."

"Where?" Grace hissed, and Rosalie and Vera smiled as their friend hurriedly patted her hair and smoothed her dress. "Rosalie, you didn't tell me that they'd been invited, or that they might actually come!"

"Why Grace," Rosalie said, narrowing her eyes. "Do you count yourself among the ranks of Edward Masen's many admirers?"

"Shh!" Grace shushed her, blushing. Rosalie frowned a little as she watched her father greet Dr. and Mrs. Cullen, along with Mrs. Cullen's brother, Edward Masen. It annoyed Rosalie that Mrs. Cullen, who must be nearly thirty, was now turning as many heads as Rosalie herself. Of course, her husband and brother were equally good-looking. The whole Cullen family, it seemed, was unnervingly gorgeous.

"You should try to dance with him," Vera suggested to Grace. "Not that I've ever seen him dance with anyone, or have ever even seen him at a party before."

"Yes, he does seem dreadfully serious—he makes you look like a regular cutup, Grace," Rosalie murmured, but Grace was too busy admiring Edward Masen to notice.

"You know, I've heard that Dr. and Mrs. Cullen give to every charity in town," Vera said quietly. "I suppose that's how your mother knows them? I've honestly never seen them at a party before."

"I get the impression that one never really "knows" the Cullens," Rosalie said, frowning. "Mother says they almost never socialize—they'll attend a gathering like this, but only if it would seem hideously impolite not to come. Mother all but insisted that Mrs. Cullen come tonight, so they could discuss some business for one of their charities. I'm guessing that's the only reason they're here."

"Wow," Vera whispered. "You know, I don't even know where they live. Have you ever seen their house?"

"No, they live a little outside of town," Rosalie sniffed. "And they never have parties themselves, though father says they could certainly afford to. They don't mingle with us poor mortals unless they have to."

"Please, you're just as beautiful as they are," Vera said. "Sometimes I'm surprised that _you _deign to mingle with _us_ poor mortals. Anyway, I suppose the Cullens are just like Mrs. Phelps, who's using all her party budget this year to give to the poor."

"Maybe," Rosalie said skeptically. "I don't know, there's just something about them. When I see them...it's like a goose walked over my grave."

Vera frowned. "That's odd. What with Dr. Cullen being, well, a _doctor_, I'd think you'd feel the opposite when you saw him."

Rosalie shrugged. For an instant, her eyes met Edward Masen's. They regarded each other for what was probably only a second or two—Rosalie was determined not to look away first—but when he turned to speak to his sister, Rosalie sighed, relieved. When Dr. Cullen smiled and nodded in her direction, she smiled faintly, then quickly turned back to Vera, hoping that he'd really been looking at someone else.

"You're right. It's silly. Come on, let's go investigate the hors d'oeuvres."

"Excellent idea," Vera declared. "Grace, stop drooling and let's join the rest of the guests."

"Sorry?" Grace said, turning toward them again, her expression absent with adoration. She wasn't actually drooling, but it was a close thing—_why_, Rosalie wondered,_ doesn't Edward Masen stare at her instead? At least she would enjoy it._

"We're going to have a snack," Rosalie said, but then she stopped, frozen, when she saw the person who'd just come through the front door. "Excuse me, girls. I just have to go say hello to someone."

Grace rolled her eyes, but Vera smiled indulgently. "Of course you do. We'll see you in a bit then."

Rosalie grinned, hardly hearing them as she made her way toward Royce King II and his parents. She felt a little giddy as she moved away from her friends, away from her parents, away from the Cullens and their vague sense of otherness, away from her past...and toward the man that she believed would be her future.


	290. Memorial

Hi everyone! This week's chapter is, as promised, one that focuses on Carlisle and Esme, but it's also about a cemetery, so I think it manages to be both romantic and a bit somber. Prior to writing this chapter, I went on a couple of cemetery tours myself—my library sponsors them sometimes in the summer, and they're pretty popular. Like Esme, I like to sketch things, so I took a lot of pictures of interesting graves, and the stories below about notable monuments come from one of the tours I went on. I never say what city this cemetery is in, because I think that there are stories like this in every town, in every cemetery. In this chapter, it was also interesting to consider some of Carlisle and Esme's feelings on death, given their immortality. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and the HUB reading challenge is finally over! So, I can finally start reading the "New Moon" graphic novel…as soon as I finish a few other books I've been waiting to read. :)

_2003: _Memorial

Carlisle's POV

It was sunset, and Carlisle and Esme were standing by the open gates of a cemetery with a group of humans, waiting for the tour to begin. Rosalie had long declared their attendance at cemetery tours (put on each year by the public library) to be morbid, even for people who were technically dead, but Carlisle enjoyed hearing about local history, and Esme liked to see the artistic trends reflected by monuments built in various decades. Besides, there were over thirty humans waiting with them tonight; obviously, whether you were mortal or immortal, there was something intensely interesting about the rituals surrounding death.

Though they'd lived in the area for a few months, Carlisle and Esme had never visited or even heard of this particular cemetery, which overlooked the Mississippi River. There were quite a few in the area, some of them dating back to the Civil War, which meant that Jasper and Alice might have attended, had they not been traveling in Europe for the summer. (Edward was away too, having decided to explore Asia for the first time in several years.)

Since those three were gone, and since Rosalie had no interest in attending such a thing (and neither did Emmett, if Rosalie wouldn't be there to hear his jokes about the unintentionally humorous names of the dead), it was just Carlisle and Esme that night. Which was pleasant, in its own way. Carlisle enjoyed doing things with their children, but it was nice to go out like this, just the two of them, and pass as a normal human couple for an evening. The sun hadn't quite set yet, but there were clouds obscuring enough of the sky that Carlisle wasn't worried. Esme squeezed his hand as the woman conducting the tour led the way through the gates promptly at seven o'clock.

Their guide, a woman of medium height and build who wore glasses and waxed poetic on all things funereal, had written books about local cemeteries, and she enthusiastically told stories about well-known monuments:

On one of the first tiers in the cemetery, there was a monument to soldiers who had died in the Civil War, complete with two large cannons, a tall column, and a monument with the Gettysburg Address carved into it. On the next tier down, there were monuments to local fraternal organizations, one named after the god Thor, complete with a Viking ship carved into the stone. Down a dirt path past a large mausoleum (complete with stained glass windows), there were the graves of two Chinese-born American citizens, who declared their love for their adopted country on their tombstones, where their names were written in both English and hanzi.

Further on, they saw the grave of a local high school student, who had been murdered by acquaintances just a few years before. (A beer can left on the grave wasn't litter, the guide explained, but rather a sign that a friend had come to have a drink with her.) Then there was the grave of a famous musician who was born in the town and buried there. (His even more famous ex-wife was buried elsewhere though). Reflecting one of the current trends in modern monuments, there was even a website address carved onto the back of his tombstone.

Up on the hill above the main tier, the tour group stopped at the graves of a well-known local family with photo ceramics on their graves; sometimes, the guide explained, ceramics were broken by vandals (or stray stones thrown up by lawn mowers), but most in the cemetery were still intact. Some of the older ceramics looked a bit odd though, since a few photos that were originally black and white had been painted in color. (Esme had painted black and white photos in the same style herself, but in general, she didn't like how such pictures turned out—the colors always seemed a bit garish and unrealistic.)

Traditionally, higher tiers in the cemetery were for the rich, and the less wealthy were buried lower down. The paupers were buried on the bottom tier, near a creek, so they were sometimes washed away, their graves marked only with numbers, and some of those had been worn away over time. (It was dark and cool on the bottom tier now that sunset was approaching, and Carlisle suspected that he might have found the setting delightfully creepy, had he not been able to see so well in the dark.

On another hill, there was the grave of a child, whose marker said only "Baby, May 22, 1892." Esme liked that one: "I'm glad that there's at least a stone, but I wish there were a name too." Then, they came at last to the grave of a wealthy local businessman, whose monument and those of his family overlooked the Mississippi River. Years ago, the man had had a statue standing on his grave in front of a fifteen foot tall stone cross. The statue, nicknamed the black angel, became a local legend when kids began daring each other to touch the statue—legend had it that if you did so, you'd die. Of course, teens designated the statue as a make-out site too, the guide explained with a chuckle, and eventually, the statue was moved by the family to another location.

"Incidentally, she wasn't really an angel," the guide said. "She was a mourning woman. It's easy to tell the difference, because mourning women don't have wings! The statue wasn't supposed to be black either—the color changed over time, and the family took it away to be repaired and brought it back again, but there was a chemical in the material that the statue was built from that caused it to appear black over time. So, she's not here anymore, but she's still a local legend…"

Carlisle and Esme were careful to stay in the shade—there was still a golden glimmer on the horizon as the tour ended—but then the sun set over the river, and as the sky turned into a haze of reds and yellows topped by purple clouds, a number of older people in the tour group admitted to have touched the statue when they were children or teens. As they walked back down the hill, keeping a little apart from the group, Esme paused several times to take pictures of monuments she liked.

"There," she said. "I can't wait to sketch some of these. That I can do from memory, but I'd like to make a photo collage too."

Carlisle smiled. "I can't wait to see it. I think Rosalie might change her mind about the supposedly 'morbid' nature of this sort of thing if she'd come along next time."

"There's a great deal of pageantry involved in funerals and cemeteries that might appeal to her," Esme agreed, "but I can understand her desire to avoid thinking about the concept of death. Since we can't die, or even get close enough to people so they'll remember us when we pretend to pass away, our lives won't ever be honored the way those of humans are—though we all have a grave or two out there with our names on then."

"That's true," Carlisle said, his smile fading. "I suppose that's something I avoid thinking about."

Esme took his hand and drew close enough to kiss him on the cheek. "Try not to worry about it. Anymore, Rosalie isn't even upset about it so much as resigned. And like the rest of us, she tries to make a mark on the world that will be its own monument—you know she and Emmett have started a contest on that car website they like, where they give away a free car every month? I suppose they'll have to shut it down soon though. Last month, people thought it was a hoax, but now that they've actually given away a car, it's attracting a lot of attention online."

Carlisle smiled. "Trust those two to find a way to make charity both fun and ostentatious. Still, I'm glad that everyone who I've brought to this peculiar sort of afterlife seems happy these days."

"We are, and we're glad that you seem happy too," Esme said, sliding her arm around his waist. "And of course, we all know that if we really could age and die, we'd probably have the same mixed emotions that we have now about immortality—Rosalie would hate watching her beauty fade, and so would I, and it would scare me too, finding out if there's anything for us beyond this life. It's something we think about mostly because we can't have it—like humans, I suppose we're all fascinated and repelled by death in our own way. But you know all that."

"Yes," Carlisle said, leaning his head against hers as they walked, his arm about her shoulder. "I know. My first grave was very simple—my father was proud, thinking that I'd died for the cause he believed in, and that I fell fighting evil, but gravestones back then weren't nearly as elaborate as most of those we saw tonight."

"Neither was mine," Esme said. "My name was on it, but it was basically a pauper's grave. They put the stone next to where my son was buried, since they couldn't find my body, and…well, you've seen it when we've visited."

"It seems like such a small thing, such an inadequate reflection of a human being's entire life," Carlisle agreed. "And so many people don't even have that much to their name."

"You know, I was thinking that it might be nice to buy flowers for every grave in this cemetery," Esme said thoughtfully as they approached the gates, "but then I decided that would be a bit silly. I don't think the dead need to know that we remember them as much as the living do. Tomorrow, I'll order flowers for everyone who's staying in the hospital right now. And for the nursing home patients too—I always think that if I could get old, the thing I'd hate most would be to feel forgotten. What do you think—would people prefer cookies or flowers?"

Carlisle smiled. "Either one sounds like a wonderful idea. The world needs more mysterious benefactors."

They were outside now, and as they walked back to the car, Carlisle felt Esme slip closer to him, and they paused where they stood for a moment, standing in the shadows cast by a streetlight, to kiss.

"Sorry," she said, laughing. "I wanted to do that earlier, but I thought it would be a bit gauche, trying to kiss you in a cemetery."

"It's my understanding that teenagers still do that sort of thing," Carlisle said with a shrug. "Who knows? Maybe it gives the dead a bit of a thrill, or perhaps something to disapprove of. It might be a topic of conversation, at least."

Esme laughed. "I think the dead have better things to do than commenting on amorous teenagers…or adult vampires."

Carlisle chuckled. "Agreed. Of course, I don't think the dead are here at all. This is just where our idea of them lives."

Esme smiled at him, then looked up at the stars. "I wonder if you're right—if there is a life after this one."

Carlisle shrugged. "I can't prove that there's a heaven, but the existence of vampires certainly seems to increase its probability."

Esme smiled a little sadly then. "Well, I'm always going to hope that we never have to find out for sure."

"Agreed," Carlisle said, leaning down to kiss her again. He never wanted there to be a true memorial for either of them—he could accept living on the fringe of things, being forgotten by humans and never learning what it felt like to get old, to even plan one's funeral or purchase a monument to be buried under—as long as he could have Esme forever.


	291. Hero

Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update, but ALA was this past weekend, so I wasn't able to finish this chapter in time. This week's story focuses on Jasper, and his struggle to master his thirst. I think AliceXJasper fans will enjoy this one, but Carlisle only appears briefly at the end—to get your Carlisle fix, check out the new chapter of "Stregoni Benefici, Unico" I'll also be posting today. (Also, there was a mistake in last week's chapter, so thanks to whoever pointed it out; "kanji" now reads "hanzi.":)) Look for a romantic CarlisleXEsme chapter next time, which will be in two weeks—I'm taking this Sunday off since I'll be traveling for the 4th. Thanks as always for your reviews and your patience, and I'll see you again soon! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and seriously, if you're not reading "The Bane Chronicles" yet, check them out! (I really hope that Stephenie Meyer does something similar with Carlisle someday, though until then, you can check out "Stregoni." :))

_1959_: Hero

Jasper's POV

Alice's note had said to meet her at the corner of State and Packard at 4pm, so Jasper was standing on the corner, trying not to look as conspicuous as he felt, loitering in the cold on a chilly November day. Alice was taking classes at the University of Michigan that semester, while Jasper mostly stayed in the apartment they shared during the day, reading voraciously and continuing to work on suppressing his thirst for human blood. It was hard, living in an apartment after sharing a home with the Cullens for several years: every day now, the smell of human seeped in through open windows, beneath the door, and through the building's heating system. But Jasper knew that if he was ever going to start going to school with Alice on a regular basis, he would have to get used to that smell.

Already, his thirst was less desperate than it had been just a few years before, and as long as he hunted regularly, there were even moments when he forget his terrible hunger for human blood. Still, being close to humans was difficult, and it was hard for Jasper to imagine sitting with them all day in the close quarters of classrooms. Alice however was convinced that someday soon, he'd be able to do it, and he trusted her judgement (and her visions) even when he wasn't sure that he could trust his self-control.

Drifting on the wind across the street from where he stood, Jasper caught an unusual scent: smoke. It wasn't like smoke from a barbecue or someone burning something on a stove. This was more acrid, more like paint or plastic was burning.

"Help!" someone called. "Help me!"

Jasper knew that he could hear and see and smell lots of things that humans couldn't. At any given moment, there were thousands of sensory details all around him, most of which he ignored: the sounds of people gossiping, bickering and joking; the smells of human food, car exhaust, and every scent an errant breeze might carry with it; the sight of insects being born and dying, flowers opening, paint fading and peeling on buildings almost imperceptibly slowly...but it was hard to ignore a cry for help. And Jasper could sense that the person crying out wasn't joking, wasn't being over-dramatic by any means; he could feel that the person (a child, a boy, he guessed) really did need help.

"HELP!" the boy screamed again.

Jasper sighed. He could tell by scanning the feelings of the humans on the street around him that no one else could hear the voice. The boy was inside a fourth story apartment that faced the busy street, its windows and doors closed, so as cars raced by and drivers waited impatiently for the lights to change, the shouting was inaudible to anyone who didn't have the senses of a vampire. This, Jasper realized, had been Alice's plan. He was the only person here who knew something was wrong, the only person who could save the boy currently shouting for help. It was some comfort to think that Alice wouldn't have sent him here if she didn't think he could really help...but could he really get that close to a human? Or would he inevitably slip and end the very life he was trying to save?

"Damn it, Alice," he muttered, and then he crossed the street and hurried toward the apartment. Ducking through an alley, he made his way to the back of the building. Sure enough, the smoke wasn't even visible outside yet, so it was little wonder that no humans had noticed the fire. But Jasper could smell it, and with a sigh, he hopped up onto the gutter and began to climb. He couldn't feel anyone watching him—usually he could sense amazement or fear from anyone who saw him move in a way that wasn't quite human-but he kept his hands on the gutter, hoping that his ascent at least looked humanly possible.

_Alice wouldn't have had me do this if she saw me getting caught,_ Jasper told himself, but he was still on edge as he reached the balcony and pulled open the sliding glass door of the apartment he was looking for. Immediately, tendrils of smoke began streaming outside, and Jasper looked into the room he'd entered—the boy who'd been shouting was nowhere in sight.

"Hello?" Jasper called.

"Help!" a faint voice shouted, then immediately dissolved into coughing. Jasper ducked down so he could see beneath the smoke, and in the hallway, he found the fire-it was licking the walls and ceiling and blocking the only exit, already too big for Jasper to put out himself. _An electrical fire, maybe?_ he wondered. Jasper didn't know and didn't especially care—fire reminded him of too many dark memories to dwell on. Ducking through the doorway beside the room he'd entered through, he found the boy hiding under a bed, his sleeve apparently caught in the box springs.

"Hi," Jasper said awkwardly, lifting up the bed with one hand. The boy yelped as his sleeve tore (Jasper flinched, but no, the spring hadn't drawn blood, the boy was just startled), and then he stared up at Jasper, wide-eyed.

"I saw the fire and got scared, so I hid," he said before starting to cough again. He was probably only about eight years old, apparently home alone after school.

"Let's go outside," Jasper suggested, grabbing the boy and slinging him over his shoulder before he could over-think such a maneuver or worry about the smell of the blood pulsing beneath the boy's skin as his heart hammered in terror. Jasper returned to the hall and found the fire burning down the carpet toward them, so he moved into the next room and shut the door, hoping that might slow the blaze down a little. Then he stepped onto the balcony before hopping up onto the railing and jumping off.

The boy was so shocked that he didn't even scream until they'd landed.

"Hey, it's fine," Jasper said quickly, setting the boy on his feet. "You're okay."_ I didn't kill you_, Jasper added in his head, relieved, though he wondered if the fact that the boy reeked of smoke and fear had helped him to resist the urge to feed. His throat was burning unpleasantly, but it wasn't unbearable. _I did it_, Jasper realized slowly, actually smiling a little. The boy was alive, and Jasper didn't feel like he was about to change that.

"I was home—the babysitter got sick and couldn't come today," the boy babbled, still gaping at Jasper. "You—you jumped off the building. Are you a superhero? I just read a comic about this Green Lantern guy—"

"Come on," Jasper said, nodding toward the street. "Let's find a pay phone and call the fire department."

A few minutes later, fire trucks pulled up to the building, and the fire was soon extinguished, though very little inside the apartment had survived the inferno. The boy Jasper had rescued was clearly in shock—none of the firefighters seemed to think it strange that he kept talking about superheroes—and when Jasper explained that he'd seen the smoke when he was walking behind the building, on his way to meet his girlfriend, no one questioned his story about climbing up the gutter and saving the boy. (Of course, having the ability to nudge people into a credulous mood certainly helped.)

It was strange, the way the onlookers who had gathered around the fire trucks were looking at him, the way he could sense they felt about him without his even having to use his gift. Jasper was used to people (humans and vampires) feeling nervous or frightened in his presence. But the humans around him now felt impressed, grateful. They thought he'd done something heroic, and he supposed he had—he'd been aware of the desire to kill the boy he'd saved, but in spite of his close proximity, he hadn't done it. It was one of only a handful of times in over a hundred years of life that Jasper had spared a life instead of taking it.

Alice appeared just as Jasper was slipping away from the crowd that had gathered. (It was getting dark, so Jasper doubted he'd be recognized if any of these people saw him again, but he was eager to avoid being photographed or seen well enough for anyone to remember what he looked like.) The boy's parents had arrived, and they were both hugging their son as if they never planned to let him out of their sight again. A block away, Jasper could see Carlisle's car, idling by the curb.

"Hi," Alice said, her tone and expression thoroughly apologetic. "I'm sorry I tricked you, but I knew it would be worth it, when it worked out."

"It was," Jasper said, surprised to find that it was true. "I was mad at first, but I did it. He's okay."

Alice grinned and wrapped her arms around him. "I knew you could do it!"

"Well, that makes one of us," Jasper said, kissing her on top of the head. "Sorry, I'm sure I stink like smoke."

"That's okay," Alice said cheerfully. "We'll go home and take a shower."

Jasper grinned. "Sounds like a plan. Carlisle's giving us a ride?"

"He wanted to make sure everything turned out okay," Alice explained. "He wasn't exactly thrilled when I told him why I sent you here today."

"I can imagine why," Jasper said quietly. "You know, I could have slipped so easily. It's kind of a miracle that I didn't, but—I don't know. I smelled him, but I knew I didn't want to kill him, so I didn't. For once, the rest of the Cullens won't have to move because of me."

"You know," Alice said gently, "they'll start to trust you more when you start trusting yourself. I love you, and I want to be with you as much as I can, so that's part of the reason I want you to give school another try. But it's also because I can see that you'll really enjoy it, once you get the hang of it."

Jasper was silent for a moment. This was one reason why he loved Alice: she believed in him when he could hardly believe in himself. It helped, of course, that she could see the future, but he guessed that even if she didn't have that ability, Alice was the sort of person who would believe the best about people, whether they deserved it or not. Jasper knew that he hadn't always deserved her faith, but he had always tried to. Now, at last, maybe he did. Maybe the part of his life when he'd been a monster was really, finally, coming to an end. And if Alice thought that there was a hero waiting underneath his thirst, then who was he to argue?

"Everything okay?" Carlisle asked as they climbed into the car.

"It went off without a hitch," Alice said proudly, smiling at Jasper, who smiled too.

"It did, actually," he said, pleased when Carlisle relaxed almost imperceptibly.

"Well, I'm glad," Carlisle said. "Alice, it seems you were right."

"Of course I was," Alice said, grinning loftily. "I trust Jasper implicitly."

"That might not always be a good idea," Jasper said, putting his arm around her. "But today it was."

"You've always been my hero," Alice said quietly, kissing him on the cheek. "And I know that when you need to be, you can be a hero to other people too."

"Thank you," Jasper said, squeezing her shoulder. "For believing in me. Though I'm guessing Emmett's going to be making superhero jokes at my expense for a while."

"Well, that was a classic heroic move, saving a helpless kid from a burning building," Alice agreed, "though I'm not about to suggest you start wearing a cape. Capes are that rare article of clothing that I have very little use for. Not that you wouldn't look dashing in a cape though."

"I'm pretty sure I wouldn't," Jasper said with a chuckle. It was a relief, sitting in the car now with only vampires around him. His throat still burned a little at the memory of the boy—the sound of his beating heart pumping blood had been especially tempting—but Jasper knew that he could bear it. It seemed that he was finally learning how. And really, Jasper didn't mind being a bit of a joke to Emmett, so long as he was a hero to Alice.


	292. Constellations

Hi everyone! Sorry for another late update, but as I'm figuring out the last few chapters, I admit that I'm dragging my feet a little bit. However, a bit of a delay between chapters usually means that you're going to get a longer one when I finally do update, so thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy these final updates. (Also, next week's chapter should definitely be on time, since I've already started writing it. :)) This week, Esme and Carlisle enjoy a romantic trip to Venice. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week!

(And if you'd like to learn more about constellations, search Google for "constellations northern hemisphere," and the first site that comes up [below the images of constellations] is the one I used.)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and if you haven't read it, check out "The Thief Lord" by Cornelia Funke, the book that Esme mentions in this chapter. (Since she's Esme though, she read it in German before it was translated into English. :))

_2000_: Constellations  
Esme's POV

It was a cool, starry night in Venice, and as Esme gazed up at the sky, lying contentedly in Carlisle's arms, she was grateful that they'd managed not to destroy the boat bobbing gently beneath them. They'd bought a gondola of their own so they could take private cruises whenever they liked, and tonight, Esme had been reminded several times that small wooden boats and amorous vampires didn't always mix—they'd nearly capsized several times just pulling off strategic articles of clothing, and Esme knew that several times, during moments of distraction, she'd come very close to shoving a hand or foot through the bottom of the boat. But now they were sated, for the moment, and the gondola was still mostly intact, though there were a couple of hand-sized holes in its sides, above the waterline.

"All right," she said, pointing up at the stars. "Tell me about that one."

"Bootes," Carlisle said, his voice a pleasant rumble in her ear. "The Herdsman of the Septemtriones, the seven oxen that are also the seven stars in the big dipper. But you know all that."

"I know," she said with a smile. "But I like to hear you tell their stories. When I was a girl, I only knew the names of a few stars. Now I know them all, but it's still wonderful to hear you describe them."

Carlisle chuckled beneath her. "Well, let's take turns then, because I like to hear you tell stories too. What about that one?"

Esme smiled. "Hydra. It's the largest and longest constellation. Virgo, Leo, Libra, and Cancer are on its north side, and it takes six hours for it to rise. Its head is a system of five stars called Epsilon Hydrae, and its brightest star is Alphard, which means "the solitary one" in Arabic. And of course, killing Hydra was one of the twelve labors of Hercules. I'd say that it's an oddly poignant constellation, given that it represents a giant snake, though when you consider the way heads grew back when the original was cut off, I think it might represent rebirth as well as an ancient slain monster. "

"I've never heard a lovelier description of a dead snake," Carlisle said, making her laugh as he kissed the side of her head.

"Now tell me about Crater," Esme said, shivering a little and thinking that soon, they were once again going to be doing things that would imperil the structural soundness of their little gondola.

"Crater," Carlisle said slowly, "has other names. Depending on the story, it either represents a cup or a goblet. You can see it best in April, but it's always a bit difficult for humans to see, because it's made of dimmer stars than those in the constellations around it."

"Corvus, Hydra, and Leo," Esme said, nodding up at the sky. "And what stories are there about Crater?"

"Once, Crater was seen as Ganymede, then a little boy, serving nectar to the gods in a goblet. But today, it's seen as a cup. The Greeks told the story of Corvus, the crow, taking the cup to fetch water for Apollo. But on his way to fill the cup, he found a fig, and it wasn't ripe yet, so since this is a Greek myth, Corvus waited for the fig to ripen instead of completing his errand. When he went back to Apollo, he carried a snake with him, and he said that the snake was what had delayed him. But of course Apollo knew that Corvus was lying, and as angry gods are oft wont to do, he may have overreacted a bit: he sent both Corvus and the innocent snake up into the stars."

"So that's why there's a crow, a cup, and a snake up there," Esme said dreamily, smiling up at the sky.

Before leaving for Venice, Esme had read a book she'd picked up in Germany called_ Herr der Diebe_, a wonderful children's book about two brothers who run away to Venice and have various adventures. Walking through Venice the past few days, Esme had been unable to resist imagining the children in the book wandering the same streets; how their lives might have progressed after the book had ended; and, though they were fictional characters, how they might have someday told children of their own about the magic they'd discovered in this amazing city.

"Remember the first time we came to Venice, and I could hardly believe that it was real?" Esme asked.

Carlisle chuckled. "You were a vampire, yet it was hard for you to believe that Venice wasn't some kind of mirage."

"I'm from Ohio," Esme said, shaking her head. "There aren't many gondolas or canals or beautiful ancient frescoes in Ohio, last time I checked. Besides, it's easy to believe in vampires when you are one. It's harder to believe in a city filled with architecture masterpieces sitting beside streets made of water, the first time you see it anyway."

"I wonder what it's going to look like in a hundred years," Carlisle said quietly, and Esme squeezed his hand—Venice was sinking by over a millimeter a year. To humans, that probably didn't sound like much, but it was different for Carlisle, who'd been alive for centuries, and knew that he would probably live to see the entire city disappear beneath the Adriatic.

"Of course," he said thoughtfully, "the whole world looks different than it did a hundred years ago, just like it did a hundred years before that, and I doubt that this century will be any exception to that trend."

"When did you first visit Venice?" Esme asked. Like constellations, this was something she'd heard him talk about many times before, but she never tired of hearing it again.

"It was 1687, just before the Venetians battled the Turks for Athens," Carlisle said. "Even then, it was an old city. The first governing body established for the islands that make up Venice was created in 568. Venice was in decline by the first time I came here. A plague in 1630 killed about 50,000 people, a third of the population. But even then, the city was beautiful, and the people here seemed surprisingly optimistic to me. Of course, at the time, my thirst still plagued me, and I still struggled with the idea that I was a monster, so I myself was a bit of a pessimist then. Even at what seemed like the beginning of the end for Venice, I loved it immediately. Any city that can survive for so long and through so many changes in fortune—yet still nourish so much timeless art and architecture—is easy to admire."

Esme looked over the edge of the boat and smiled at the distant lights of Venice. "It's survived so much, and for so many centuries—maybe it will even escape sinking into the ocean, somehow."

"Maybe," Carlisle said, hugging her gently. "Or, maybe it will finally fade away, like so many great cities before it. It's had a wonderfully long life. I'll mourn it, when it's gone, but there's something sad about things that just go on and on into perpetuity too. Many of the best things don't last forever."

"That's true," Esme said softly, looking up at the stars. "Every day, it seems I read in the paper or see stories on TV about new ways that humans are poisoning the earth, or harming each other. A hundred years from now, Venice could be gone, but maybe we'll be gone too—living on Mars or somewhere even further away, trying to help humans build a new world, as inconspicuously as possible."

"It's disheartening, hearing about all the different ways that humans can be cruel to each other, and the planet," Carlisle said. "But the amazing thing, and the really terrible thing about living as long as I have is that I've gotten to see tragedies and triumphs happen over and over again. It's always a difficult time to be alive, but every age is an age of wonders too. Humans are always creating things that seem to move civilization two steps forward and one step back, and the future always seems to promise hope and doom in equal measure.

Looking up at the stars, I see that the constellations have changed subtly in the relatively short time I've been alive—old stars have died, but I can see the beginnings of new ones too. So I suppose that Venice embodies some of my favorite things about mortality: the city gets to change and grow, to rise and fall, and perhaps eventually die. But it also reminds me of the benefits of immortality. When I'm here, I feel lucky that I've been able to witness so many amazing changes in the world, just in my lifetime, even if I rarely change myself."

Esme turned and smiled at him. "Now that's a beautiful thought. There are certainly things I miss about being human, but there are so many things I would have missed if I'd never met you."

Carlisle kissed the side of her head again. "Likewise," he said.

As they stared up at the stars, watching as they slowly migrated across the sky, Esme thought of the first time she'd seen Venice with Carlisle, and how it might feel to see the city for the last time someday.

_I'm so thankful that I have someone to face the future with_, Esme thought, relaxing in Carlisle's arms._ No matter what it holds, no matter what constellations we find ourselves looking up at someday, I'm just glad that I'll get to see them with him._


	293. Landing

Hi everyone! Yikes, sorry for disappearing for so long, but I was on vacation last week, and I meant to post this chapter before I left...but clearly, I didn't. (I didn't realize I'd forgotten until I went to post another chapter this afternoon, so at least next week's chapter is already finished. :))

This week's chapter is a fun one that I'm surprised I didn't get to sooner (though I kind of alluded to it in the last chapter when I had Esme mention vampires someday leaving earth for other planets). It concerns the moon landing, and how the Cullens might have reacted to that historic moment. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and one of these days, I really will read the "New Moon" graphic novel. (I've still got a lot of summer reading I want to finish first though; "New Moon" the GN seems like it'll make a great fall book. :))

_1969_: Landing

Alice's POV

The whole family was gathered around the TV, and even though she knew what was probably going to happen, Alice was still jittery with excitement. Sitting next to Jasper on the couch, she bounced up and down slightly in her seat as she scanned the future. Jasper, who was holding her hand, was smiling at her, sensing her (relative) confidence in what was to come.

"No way they actually make it," Emmett said, glancing at her with a wicked grin. "That thing's gonna blow up any second now."

"Emmett," Esme said, "please don't joke about people blowing up, particularly people trying to land on the _moon_."

"I can't believe they've made it this far," Rosalie said, squinting at the TV and then giving Alice a sly look. "Are we positive that this whole thing isn't a hoax?"

"_Yes_, Rose," Alice said emphatically, poking her in the back of the head—Emmett and Rosalie were sitting on the floor in front of her. "For the millionth time, I am positive that there are really people flying towards the moon as we speak, and I am choosing not to point out the irony of a _vampire_ being skeptical about the very reasonable science behind sending humans into space."

"You just did point it out though," Edward said, rolling his eyes.

"Anyway, you know the science behind this stuff better than I do," Alice said, and Rosalie smiled smugly.

"I was just trying to get a rise out of you," she said, turning back to the TV. "If we're going to be sitting here in rapt anticipation for who knows how long while we wait for them to actually step onto the moon, the least I can do is start an entertaining argument."

"Rosalie, Alice and I have both seen a preview of that argument, and I promise you, it's not that entertaining," Edward said.

"July 20th, 1968," Carlisle said quietly. "I'm not sure if I'm surprised that we're already on the moon, or surprised that it's taken this long to get there."

"Well, science fiction has certainly been predicting this moment for while," Esme said, leaning against his shoulder. "How many movies have there been about colonizing the moon?"

"Dozens, at least," Carlisle agreed. "But how many of them seemed even remotely plausible?"

"Ugh, remember those "Commando Cody" shorts from the forties?" Esme said, laughing.

"The ones about that guy who could fly, and he had that stupid helmet?" Emmett said, snickering. "I always wondered why a jet pack like that wouldn't have set him on fire."

Carlisle smiled at the memory. "And in those old shorts, the moon looked like New Mexico, and it had atmosphere, and gravity..."

"And people were always getting into shootouts with moon men who wanted to take over the world," Alice finished, giggling. "I promise, when Apollo 11 lands on the moon, no alien is going to jump out and try to blast it with a ray gun."

"But you might not be able to see aliens in your visions, right?" Edward teased. "I mean, you can't see very well if humans or vampires aren't involved."

"I think that NASA would have detected some evidence of aliens by now," Jasper said drily. "How many rockets have they launched at this point?"

"Maybe not though," Emmett said with a grin. "They haven't discovered vampires yet, remember. If they can miss us when we're sharing the same planet, I think it'd be pretty easy for them to overlook creatures living on the moon."

"Not our moon," Rosalie said firmly. "I read this morning that it's scientifically impossible for any kind of organism to live on the earth's moon. Even we'd be uncomfortable in the vacuum of space."

"True, we would need some kind of shelter," Alice said thoughtfully. "I can't see it yet, but I can _imagine_ living on the moon someday if we could live in a pressurized building with air and plenty to drink. NASA still has to figure out how well humans and animals will do if they live in space long-term—we'd be fine though."

"Yes, they're worried that living without gravity might cause a wide variety of health problems," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "Of course, we'd be immune, though I'm not sure that even a vampire could survive in a vacuum without a space suit."

"Too bad they aren't looking for vampire volunteers to colonize the moon," Edward said with a smile. "In some ways, we'd be perfect for the job, though hunting would be a problem."

"Maybe some of the bigger moons out there, like Ganymede and Titan, could be colonized someday," Rosalie said thoughtfully. Her love of all things mechanical had expanded to include aircraft and spacecraft over the past few years, and Alice grinned at the thought of Rosalie someday building a spaceship that could carry them all to distant worlds. "Someday, they might even invent a way to create an atmosphere on other moons and planets so that visiting humans can breathe."

"Maybe you'll be the one to discover it," Alice said, tapping the side of her head confidently. "I'll keep you posted."

Rosalie smiled. "You do that. I hate the idea of just watching stuff like this forever."

"As soon as commercial space travel becomes affordable for the average human—not just the super-rich—we'll get up there," Esme promised. She and Carlisle had been saying something to that effect ever since the Apollo 11 mission had been announced. Sure, it was now possible to travel to the moon, but it could be years or even decades before vampires could make such a trip without attracting undue attention.

"There'd better be aliens out there. If not on the moon, then somewhere," Emmett said, putting his arm around Rosalie. "I'd love to have our own planet someday."

"Start saving then," Jasper said, smiling at Alice. "How much did you say all this probably cost?"

"The numbers I see in visions vary, but eventually it's going to be announced that NASA's spent something like twenty billion dollars on the space program since 1961," Alice said. Getting numbers from visions was tricky—she didn't know anyone involved in the space program, and she couldn't get an accurate read on the future just by looking at people on TV or reading the paper, but if she relaxed and really focused, she could see things that were further away from her own surroundings. In general, it was easiest to see the future of the people and places closest to her, but sometimes Alice tried looking beyond that, and when she did, she saw fascinating things: changing skylines...who was going to run for president next...snatches of songs that wouldn't be popular for months or years yet...something about a hotel called Watergate—Alice knew that one was juicy, but she wasn't sure why yet—and the number she'd just mentioned, because someone somewhere had done the math, and Alice could see them seeing it and feeling amazed at the benefits and the costs of space travel.

"Whoa," Emmett muttered. "Guess Planet Rose might have to be smaller than I'd like."

"Should I be flattered or insulted that you want to name a _large_ planet after me?" Rosalie wondered.

"Stick with your part-time job for a few centuries, and you might have enough for a down payment, Emmett," Edward said with a smile.

They had to sit in front of the TV for another six hours while they waited for the astronauts to actually set foot on the moon, but of course, one of the nice things about being a vampire was that no one got tired or really needed to move from their place in front of the flickering screen to go get a drink or a snack or use the bathroom. Alice caught glimpses of visions of humans around the city and state (and country and world too, if she really concentrated) having to do just that while they waited to see if men could really walk on the moon. She could see that a lot of people weren't sure what was actually going to happen. If you weren't a scientist at NASA, it seemed that among many people, there was still some skepticism about the wisdom of walking on the moon.

While the Cullen family waited, they talked about the various aspects of the mission that interested them: Carlisle was curious to learn about the physical effects of space travel on humans, and while Esme liked the idea of traveling to the moon someday, she wondered about the safety of this first mission. Both wondered if the astronauts would be able to bring back any photographs. (Alice, who had seen a vision of a photo of earth taken from the moon sometime in the future, kept quiet, knowing that everyone would enjoy the surprise of seeing that picture themselves, especially if she didn't tell them about it in advance.)

Emmett, for the most part, wondered what real aliens might be like, instead of the phony, mostly humanoid ones you saw in movies and on TV, and he wondered if blood could be packaged in such a way that they could eventually take it into space with them. ("Quantity seems like a bigger problem than packaging though," he said grimly. "It would stink to get to a new planet and immediately start devouring the inhabitants.")

Rosalie knew all the mechanical ins and outs of a spacecraft, so like Alice, she knew that there were almost innumerable things that could go wrong during a flight to the moon, but Alice's confidence was enough proof for everyone that the three Apollo 11 astronauts would probably survive their trip. ("Still," Rosalie said. "There should be a woman on the next flight to the moon, to fix things if something goes wrong.") Edward could hear what Alice was thinking as she considered different possible versions of the future, and like Rosalie and Carlisle, he'd read a lot about the science of space travel, so the three of them discussed various physics and mechanical engineering quandaries. (Alice noticed that Rosalie, if only for tonight, seemed to forget to be as chilly toward Carlisle as she usually was.)

Jasper occasionally offered a comment about something or joked around with Emmett, but for the most part, he was quiet. They were all quieter than usual—Alice realized that as the time for the actual first step onto the moon approached, she herself hadn't spoken in some time, and was instead staring at the TV in silence and squeezing Jasper's hand tightly. Even though she could see what was _probably_ going to happen next, it was still rather awe-inspiring, seeing people land on the moon, something that had never been done before in all the time that the earth and moon had existed. Humans, though physically weaker and generally less intelligent than vampires (rocket scientists perhaps being a rare exception), were capable of amazing things.

When Neil Armstrong finally stepped onto the moon, everyone in the room seemed to forget to pretend to breath. Alice kept squeezing Jasper's hand, and she knew, as the astronaut spoke through the TV, something that must be obvious to everyone, even people who didn't have her gift: after today, the world would never be the same again.

"That's one…small step for man. One…giant leap for mankind."

_And someday, vampire-kind will be up there too_, Alice told herself, and she saw Edward smile at the thought.


	294. Careers

Hi everyone! Sorry for missing last week's update, but the week before, I was working on a story for Fandom for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, a group that raises money to fight cancer with the help of fanfic! So, if you'd like to read the story I contributed (a fun little chapter about Carlisle and Esme riding a Ferris Wheel—and I can tell that my life is going pretty well based solely on the fact that I just typed that sentence :)), please visit their website to learn more about them. (Just google "Fandom for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society," and they're the third site listed). If you donate, you can read the stories that various authors have submitted, though I'm not sure if there's a minimum amount. (You can also Like Fandom4LLS on Facebook. :))

This week's chapter focuses on another topic that I'm surprised I've never written about in detail before: namely, library Summer Reading Programs! At my library, I finally wrapped up the teen program this past week, and we're already starting to talk about next summer. Basically, the SRP is a big deal for most libraries, and it seems like the kind of thing that Nessie would enjoy, because it would be a rare chance for her to pretend to be a normal kid. Thanks as always for your reviews, and I'll see you again next week! :)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and is anyone going to buy that big "Twilight" movie box set? (I'm probably not going to, but I'm curious to see what it looks like...:))

_2007_: Careers

Jacob's POV

It was, as it usually is, a cloudy day in Seattle when Nessie and I visited the library. We'd been going there every week all summer so that Nessie could do the Summer Reading Program. The Forks branch of the North Olympic Library System had a similar thing, where kids could read to earn prizes during the summer—Billy used to take me and my sisters when we were kids. But Nessie was too conspicuous in Forks, and of course Edward and Bella couldn't be seen with her. Even I'd seem suspicious if I started hanging around the library with my mysterious new "niece," so every week, we drove to Seattle, which is a big enough city that Nessie, as impossibly strange and amazing as she is, at least has a chance of blending in.

Mostly, Nessie just had a good time sitting around in the children's rooms of various Seattle Public Library branches and reading. (I seriously had no idea just how many books there were for kids until Nessie started reading them—she can read adult stuff just fine, but it's easy to see how much fun she has with kids' books, since she can read one and then talk to a human kid about it.) Sometimes we'd go to library programs too, where they'd have people performing plays or music or even bringing wild animals into the library from a zoo or something. Nessie loved these things, because she got to sit on the floor with the other kids and pretend for an hour that she was just like them. Also, there were snacks—Nessie and I agree on the vital importance of snacks.

And honestly, as a kid who has everything she could possibly want, Nessie really likes to earn things for herself. The more she'd read, the more prizes she'd win through the SPL's reading program, although Bella would remind her not to actually write down all the books she was reading. (The sheer number of books she goes through would seem suspiciously huge for a human kid.) Even though the prizes were just little things, like books and movie tickets or coupons for food, Nessie was proud to be earning something, which I guess isn't that strange. Even if you're not a super-rich half-vampire kid, sometimes it's the little things in life that make you happiest.

One day, after we'd gone to a puppet show (with seriously huge puppets that I think Nessie found to be more weird than entertaining), Nessie got her prizes for the week—three books and two coupons for free ice cream—and then she asked to go upstairs to look at the nonfiction books.

"The kids' room didn't have what you wanted, huh?"

"Not about careers," Nessie said, racing up the stairs ahead of me.

"Careers?" I repeated.

"Yeah," Nessie said, reading the numbers on the sides of books before heading to the section she wanted. My knowledge of the Dewey decimal system is pretty limited, but Nessie apparently has the whole thing memorized, because soon, we were standing by a bunch of career books.

"I'm thinking about what I want to be when I grow up," Nessie explained. "I hear adults asking kids about that a lot, so I wanted to get some ideas. I mean, I know what some jobs are like, but I'm wondering...you know, what jobs I'll be able to do."

"Right, got it," I said. This was sort of an issue for me too: once Nessie was full-grown in a few years, she would stop aging, so both of us would look like we were about eighteen years old forever.

"Jacob?" Nessie asked after a few minutes of flipping through books. "When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?"

"A mechanic, usually," I said immediately. "I mean, sometimes I wanted to be a superhero or something, but mechanic is probably the main real job I wanted. I've always liked building things and fixing things." As soon as I said it, I smiled a little. "I'm lucky that way, because I'll be able to do that job, maybe forever." I imagined getting to repair a spaceship someday and grinned.

Nessie giggled.

"What?" I asked, looking at her.

"You and Aunt Rose have a lot in common, aside from your love of teasing each other."

"I wouldn't call it 'love' exactly," I said, rolling my eyes. "It's a hobby for both of us, not a calling."

"So you both can do mechanical stuff," Nessie said thoughtfully. "That's a great career, because even if we have robots doing lots of jobs someday, we'll still need people to fix them."

"I was actually just thinking about repairing a spaceship in the future so we could visit other planets, but sure, robot repair technician sounds pretty cool too."

"And Grandpa has a good job that he likes," Nessie said, flipping more pages in the book she was holding. "People always need doctors."

"You could be a doctor too someday, if you want," I said. "I mean, you wouldn't have the problem that your dad and your aunt have with actually practicing medicine." As always, it was weird to have a conversation about bloodlust in a public place. Of course, since no one knew what "problem" I was referring to, so far, everything we'd said seemed pretty normal. Anyone who overheard us would have no way of knowing that a werewolf and a half-vampire kid were discussing career opportunities.

"I don't know," Nessie said with a frown. "I'd be afraid of making a mistake and hurting someone."

"Yeah, that would make me nervous too," I said. "So, what kind of career are you thinking about?"

"Well, probably I'll end up doing lots of jobs, like mom and dad," she said. "Though I guess mom hasn't had that many jobs yet. She worked at that store in Forks though, and she thinks she might like to be a librarian in a few years, after she gets her degree."

"That definitely seems like a job your mom would like," I said, looking at the shelves of books surrounding us. "I've gotta say, I hadn't been to a library in a while before you came along, but they're pretty nice. I'm not as much of a reader as you are, but I definitely enjoy the smell of books."

Nessie laughed. "Do you think everyone notices that, or is it just people like us?"

"No, I used to notice it when I was younger too, but it's stronger now," I said. "I mean, if you think about what makes up the smell—it's the books, but it's the people who've handled them too—then it's pretty complex."

"Some books are a little gross though, especially in the children's room," Nessie said, making a face.

"Yeah, I'm really glad you don't get sick, because any kid's book with sticky stuff on it just seems like a germ magnet. Have you washed your hands lately, by the way?"

Nessie giggled again, then went back to her book. "No, but I will before we go get ice cream."

Regular hand washing was another "pretending to be human" thing that never failed to amuse Nessie. She understood why it was important for normal kids, but understanding the concept of avoiding germs wasn't the same as knowing what it felt like to get sick. I'd tried to describe to her what it was like to have a cold or the flu, but when you're talking to a kid who's never had so much as a runny nose, it's hard to explain things like the chicken pox.

"I guess Uncle Jasper and Uncle Emmett haven't had many jobs," Nessie said a little later. "But they've both worked at different stores. So have Aunt Alice and Aunt Rose."

"Yeah, that seems like an okay job, depending on the store," I said. "But I guess around the holidays, when it's really busy and crowded, it might be sort of unpleasant."

"That's true, though I might like a job that's busy sometimes," Nessie said. "I mean, at least things would be interesting, and I'd like to feel like I was helping people with something."

"You could have your own store maybe," I said. "Nessie's Ice Cream Emporium."

Nessie smiled at that. "I'd have a hundred different flavors to choose from."

Just then, my cell phone buzzed. "Esme's outside. Do you want to stay a while longer, or are you ready to go?"

"I'm ready," Nessie said, standing up and handing me her stack of books. "These should be a good start."

"You're lucky I'm strong, or else I'd get tired, carrying your books all the time," I said. (The stack was practically weightless for both of us, but it looks weird, making a kid carry a tall stack of books when you're my size.)

When we got outside after checking out Nessie's books, Esme was waiting for us. We'd ridden to Seattle together because she'd had a meeting at a gallery, and now I would get to drive us home in Edward's Astin Martin, after redeeming Nessie's ice cream coupons. Yes, there are definitely perks to being friends with the denizens of the night (or at least the ones that own awesome sports cars).

As we walked to the ice cream place, Nessie showed Esme her career books and told her what she'd been thinking about.

"You and Aunt Alice both sell things online. When I get better at making things, I guess I could do that, but I'm not sure what I'd make."

"You're good at art, and you're learning to sew now," Esme said. "You and Alice could have a clothing business together someday."

"That's true, though I think we might have creative differences when it comes to what constitutes fashion," Nessie said, and Esme laughed.

"You've been a substitute teacher before, right?" I said to Esme, who nodded. "Maybe you'd like teaching, Ness."

"Maybe, but at least Grandma was a normal kid once," Nessie said with a frown. "I'm not sure I should be in charge of kids when there are so many things I don't know about them."

"I'm sure you could learn everything you'd need to know about children, if you wanted to," Esme said, putting an arm around her. "That's what teacher education classes are for. Trust me, humans have to work hard to learn about taking care of kids too."

"That's sort of comforting and scary at the same time," Nessie said with a smile. "Well, I guess when I go to college, there are lots of campus jobs too. Dad's done some of those, and he says they're okay."

"You could just work for me and Rosalie when we open a badass car detailing business someday," I said, and Nessie giggled. "Seriously, you like art, so you could help us paint flames and wizards on the sides of people's vans!"

"Language," Esme said automatically. "Is that really something you and Rosalie might work on together?"

"Heck, if we've got forever, I'm sure we'll get around to it eventually," I said with a shrug, and she and Nessie laughed.

As we headed back to the car with our ice cream (I'd gotten black raspberry chip, while Nessie got gummy bear ice cream—yes, they actually put gummy bears in ice cream now), Nessie looked up at the sky and smiled. "At least I don't have to decide right now. And I'll have lots of chances to change my mind—it's not like with humans, where they seem to do one job their whole lives."

"Most humans don't do that anymore either though," Esme pointed out. "Grandpa Charlie has, but as I understand it, even people who won't live forever change careers a few times. So you're right—you've got lots of time to make up your mind about your future career, and you've got even more time to change it."

"Yeah," Nessie said, smiling up at me. "When we get home, I'll practice drawing flames and wizards, Jacob."

"Good idea," I said, laughing. "The world will always need people who can paint murals for wicked custom vans."


	295. Abandoned

Hi everyone! Sorry for being a week late again—I was out of town for the holiday weekend and didn't get this finished, but at least it's a nice long chapter. In fact, let's just plan on me posting the last five chapters every other week; they're all going to be a bit long, but having an extra week should give me enough time to write (and weep, if necessary).

This week's chapter focuses on a concept that I'm sure most of you have heard of, and one which I finally decided that I wanted to write about: namely, the idea that Carlisle and Charlie are friends, and sometimes, Carlisle might help Charlie solve mysteries. :) In this case, the mystery in question involves a vampire, though Charlie doesn't know that, so Jacob helps out too. (I also think that the events described below are something that the Cullens and Quileutes would have to worry about after the events of "Breaking Dawn," and it's always a bit fun to consider the future beyond the end of the series.) Thanks for your reviews, and I'll see you again in two weeks!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the author of "Twilight," and I'm finally going to read the "New Moon" graphic novel this month! (And hey, now that I've waited this long, I won't have to wait as long for volume two to come out. :))

_2007_: Abandoned

Carlisle's POV

"This is like the beginning of a joke," Jacob said, rolling down his window and taking a deep breath of the damp night air. "A werewolf, a vampire, and a cop walk into an abandoned factory..."

"Don't let Charlie hear you say that," Carlisle said quietly. "This is serious, Jacob."

"I know, which is why I'm trying to lighten the mood," Jacob said. "Also, your family and my pack are going to be kind of pissed when they find out about this, and I'm really not looking forward to that."

Carlisle shrugged. "I told Esme where we're going, and since Alice told her what's going to happen, she said it was all right, though I have a feeling she's going to be out there in the woods tonight, just to keep an eye on all three of us."

"Yeah," Jacob said with a smile. "My pack will too, though I haven't phased all day, so I don't know how they'd hear about it. Why did Charlie just want you and I to come?"

"This isn't exactly standard procedure for the police," Carlisle pointed out drily. "I'm sure he doesn't want anyone to find out that he's brought in outside help on a case that isn't even his. The fewer people involved, the easier it is to keep a secret."

It was a warm, clear night in September when Carlisle parked in front of Charlie Swan's house. He and Jacob were there at Charlie's invitation, to take a trip out to a shuttered factory in Mason County. It was out of Charlie's jurisdiction, but several people had been reported missing within the past few days, and when he'd heard about the bizarre nature of the disapperances, Charlie had gotten suspicious. Other police officers in the area were inclined to believe that no foul play was involved—maybe the people who'd disappeared had done so deliberately. But Charlie, who was nothing if not direct, had called Carlisle at work to talk about the case.

"It just seems...off," he'd said. "I guess high school kids sneak into this factory sometimes—for a dare, or to drink beer and smash windows. But until last week, no one had ever been reported missing from this place. Mason county sheriff says that last Friday night, six kids went in there and never came out. They searched the place, but there was no sign of them, except the car they left parked on the main road. It was like they'd vanished into thin air. None of them fit the usual profiles for runaways, and according to their families, they didn't make any kind of preparations to run away—they didn't take any clothes or money with them, and none of them have every done anything like this before."

"And these kids definitely disappeared from the factory?" Carlisle had asked. "How do the police know for sure?"

"I guess one of them had a little brother who finally got scared, told the police where his brother and his friends planned to go that night, and where the car would be," Charlie explained. "I guess they took his video camera—they were going to shoot their own horror movie. Look, I hate to ask, but does this sound like...something you and Jacob could maybe give me a hand with? I'd like to take a ride out there, have a look around. I know I don't need to know details about...whatever secret stuff I'm not supposed to know, and I don't want to either, but I'd rather we check this out before more Mason County officers head out there. The kids' parents are organizing a search party for this weekend too, so..."

"You're right, this does sound like something we should look into. I'll talk to Jacob now, and we can head out there tonight, if you have time."

"Sounds good," Charlie had said. "And this maybe goes without saying, but—don't mention this to Bella. Anymore, she starts looking worried if I so much as sneeze."

"Understood," Carlisle said, chuckling. "After I talk to Jacob, I'll let you know when we'll stop by tonight."

"Thanks," Charlie said grimly. "Bye."

When Carlisle had hung up the phone in his office at the hospital, he'd considered what Charlie had told him. Of course, it was possible that the six teens had decided to run away together, but then why had they left their car? If they'd gone to Seattle, that would have been one thing, but an abandoned factory in Mason County didn't seem like the kind of place where kids would go to start a new life on their own. No, Carlisle was fairly certain that Charlie's hunch was correct: something sinister was involved here. Fortunately (or unfortunately, really), a phone call to Alice had confirmed Carlisle's suspicions.

"He's alone," she said, her voice becoming thoughtful as she scanned the future. "And he's not young—he was one of the Volturi's witnesses last year, and he's hunting here because he knows they won't intervene, no matter how many people he kills. I'll have to start watching for nomads like this one more carefully..."

"It's just going to get worse if we don't stop him, isn't it?" Carlisle said grimly.

"...yes," Alice said after a pause. "But if you and Jacob go with Charlie tonight, it'll be fine. I see him there, back at the factory. He was out hunting the last time the police came, but now he's waiting for that search party to show up..."

That was how Carlisle and Jacob found themselves in the back of Charlie's cruiser, heading for Mason County as the moon rose. Carlisle wasn't happy with the situation—without the Volturi to intervene in cases like this, it would be up to the Cullen family and the Quileutes to stop vampires who hunted too conspicuously. The implications of such a situation were grim: Carlisle didn't want the Quileutes to have to spend the rest of their lives hunting vampires, nor did he want his family known as the Volturi of the Olympic Peninsula...or of the Americas. Was it possible that the Volturi might refuse to intervene outside of Europe for a time, after such a crushing blow to both their pride and their reputation? After investigating Joham and his half-vampire children, what would their next move be?

"There it is," Charlie said, pointing out the window, straight ahead. A tall building rose out of the trees, at least seven stories tall, with four rows of windows (most of them broken) and four banks of windows in every row.

"Yikes," Jacob said, staring up at the place. "I'd think this place looked haunted even if I didn't know what was inside."

"Charlie, you should probably stay here," Carlisle said. "Jacob and I will go take a look."

Charlie frowned. "Really? You want me to stay here?" Obviously, the fact that he was an armed police officer and his passengers were one teenager and one doctor was straining his usual tolerance for the strange and unexplained.

"Sorry Charlie," Jacob said, "but that thing up there is not something you want to get close to. We don't want you getting close to it either—for one thing, Bella would kill us if she found out."

"But you two will be fine?" Charlie said, looking at the two of them sitting in the back of the cruiser. Then he shook his head and opened his own door to let them out. "Right. This is one of those things where I don't want to know details."

"Exactly," Carlisle said, getting out of the car when Charlie opened the door. "We won't be long."

Charlie nodded reluctantly. "Okay. Well, you know where to find me if you need a hand."

"Thank you, Charlie," Carlisle said, following Jacob up the side road that led to the old factory. When he looked around to check that Charlie was getting back into the cruiser, he saw Esme perched in a tree above the police car. She waved at him, and he smiled. Below her, Seth and Leah were crouched in the undergrowth—to a vampire, they were plainly visible, but judging by the way that Charlie was fiddling with his radio and looking unconcerned, the shadows cast by the moon concealed them from human eyes. A light breeze was blowing, and Carlisle caught the scent of a strange vampire a few hundred yards ahead. Good, so they were downwind.

Jacob laughed when he followed Carlisle's gaze—clearly, he'd just spotted Bella and Edward standing in the woods a few yards in front of Charlie's cruiser—Alice and Jasper were a few yards behind it, and Quil and Embry could be heard in the woods up ahead, poised to move on the nomad if he tried to leave the factory. Yes, clearly Esme and Alice had agreed that, for his own safety, it was better to only give Charlie the illusion of secrecy.

"Rosalie and Emmett must have drawn the babysitting lot tonight," Carlisle said quietly. "Not that Rose will mind, but I'm sure Emmett's disappointed that he's going to be missing a fight."

"Not much of a fight with me here," Jacob said, pulling off his shirt. "Do you remember what life was like before most of the people you knew had heightened senses and super strength?"

"Vaguely," Carlisle said, chuckling. "But it's been a while."

Jacob pulled off the rest of his clothes and tossed them under a tree before phasing.

"Don't attack unless he does. We have to try to reason with him." Carlisle whispered. Jacob rolled his eyes, but nodded, and then they ran up to the factory. Straight ahead of them was an entrance.

As soon as Carlisle pushed open the door, things happened very quickly: a vampire threw himself at Jacob, and Carlisle tackled him, but the other vampire slipped out of his grasp and tried to grab his neck—Jacob, snarling, got a grip on his right leg and tore it off. The vampire screamed and tried to leap backward on his remaining leg, but Carlisle pushed him down and held him against the ground by his neck.

"I don't want to kill you," Carlisle said quietly. "But I will if I have to. You don't have to live this way. You can exist without human blood."

The other vampire laughed. "Why would I want to do that, you freak? I know all about you _Cullens_ and your pet dogs! The Volturi should have killed you when they had the chance. Why would any vampire want to live like you do? Do you know how many humans I've drained in my life? _Thousands_! And it doesn't matter, because there are _billions_ on this planet! They're as expendable and nourishing as cattle. Humans and their warm, fresh blood that pours down my throat as they beg me to stop while I tear at them—"

And then Jacob tore his head off.

Carlisle sighed. "Come on. Let's take him outside."

When they exited the factory, Esme was waiting for them, Alice and Jasper at her side, Quil, Embry, and the Clearwaters standing a bit behind them.

"I'm glad you're both okay," she whispered, embracing him quickly before stepping back to help make the fire. Jacob set off into the woods, but the other wolves sat and watched—apparently, Bella and Edward were still watching Charlie, just in case. Within seconds, what was left of the nomad was burning. Carlisle wondered what he would say to Charlie about the smoke, or if he'd even dare ask.

"Sometimes I hate being right," Alice said as they watched the blaze. "I knew he'd try to kill both of you, and I knew you'd try to reason with him anyway."

"He deserved that much," Carlisle said, squeezing Esme's hand. "Every sentient creature deserves that much, even if they have no respect for any life other than their own."

"We're different from them that way," Esme said quietly. "Just because we have to fight monsters sometimes doesn't mean we should act like monsters ourselves, unless we have to."

"Ugh," Jacob said, emerging from the trees, human and fully clothed again. "Let's get home so I can brush my teeth. I've gotten used to the smell of vampire, but I still can't handle the taste."

"I think I'd be concerned if you could," Jasper said with a grim smile. "So. From now on, we're going to have to be prepared for this type of thing."

"Yes," Carlisle said, looking at his family, and Jacob's. "I'd be worried, except I know that I can count on all of you. We can't save every human, but we can do our best to watch out for vampires like this one."

"Agreed," Jacob said. "Sam and I can work out a schedule of patrols. If Alice sees something like this again, we'll be ready."

"You'd better go back to Charlie, before he comes up here to investigate the source of the smoke," Alice said, nodding down the hill. Carlisle squeezed her shoulder as she and Jasper passed—clearly, she felt guilty for not having seen the nomad's first attack before it happened, but knowing Alice, she wouldn't let a similar situation escape her notice again.

"See you in a bit," Esme whispered, kissing him lightly. That made Carlisle feel a little better. At the moment, the threat of the Volturi hardly seemed to matter: yes, the future was uncertain, and there would doubtless be dangerous times ahead, perhaps years, or even decades away. But the Quileutes and the Cullens would face whatever came together—they would always be family now, and they would never abandon each other.


End file.
